


At The Center of His Soul

by Rothelena



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothelena/pseuds/Rothelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane has to make Loralei Martin talk. But he's not on top of his game, and his feelings for a certain dark-haired team leader make nothing easier. But could his love for Teresa Lisbon be the key he's been looking for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Special agent Susan Darcy sat at one of CBI’s round bistro-tables and forced her fingers to stop drumming on the smooth black tabletop. She was so nervous these days when she absolutely hated to be agitated and fidgety, it made her feel small and vulnerable. She pushed her hand through her hair and sighed.  
She could still see Luther Wainwright’s empty, panicked stare in her nightmares. His face forever frozen in a horrible death. It had humbled her, taught her one thing: no matter what she’d seen in years and years working for the FBI- Red John was his own category. Catching him was paramount.  
She looked at the man sitting on the opposite chair. He looked so calm, so composed, staring at her without hiding. His bold, brazen charm seemed to be back, but Susan wasn’t fooled any longer: she could see his hands shaking even as he crossed them over his chest.  
He was still thoroughly out of it. But undoubtedly the only chance she had.  
“Tea?” His voice wasn’t calm, slightly higher than she remembered it from before the chips came down.  
She nodded. “I would like that.”  
Patrick Jane got up, his movements graceful and slow. He looked impeccable outside, his suit elegant and sophisticated, complete with trademark vest. Shirt tucked in, blond hair combed to shining perfection. He was made up like a prince again. But every movement told her that he felt like a stranger in his own body.  
He took comfort from the normalcy of making tea, she could see it. Taking the tea bags out of the cupboard where they had always been. Filling the kettle with water. Preparing the turquoise cups. He let his fingers slide over the rim as if greeting an old friend he had missed dearly.  
After long minutes he put a cup down in front of her and filled it, pouring slowly, almost meditatively. When he was done, he sat down and crossed his arms once more, scrutinizing her with this unnerving stare.  
Susan felt an uncomfortable, embarrassed heat at her lower spine and swallowed to get rid of the tension.  
She spoke slowly.  
“Your obsession makes you a dangerous man, Patrick.”  
He smiled at her. His smile was moving, it wove its way into a person’s essence, no matter if friend or foe. It affected everybody. Like a weapon.  
“Only my obsession, Susan?” he asked softly.  
She smiled back, although the gesture almost hurt on her taut features. It died as soon as she stopped her inhuman efforts to keep it up. Not a time for smiles. Not in her life.  
“There’s another thing I realized: Red John has to be caught- at all costs.”  
His smile deepened.  
“Welcome to the club.”  
“No matter what you’ve done or are willing to do,” she sighed, “I understand that you are not his minion. I apologize for what I put you through. But I had some sound suspicions against you.”  
He shrugged, and she thought that he looked like a little boy, almost innocent, his green eyes looking larger than usual, hiding less. Was he playing a game?  
“You didn’t do much bad to me, Susan,” he said, “except almost making me lose my left ring finger, that is.”  
She flinched, suddenly remembering that day again. It had been horrible. She had watched Jane in the hospital later, shaking like a leaf, agent Lisbon by his side. Serious Crimes’ team leader had been looking at him as if he were an apparition, worry and wonder clearly written on her face.  
Susan swallowed. The memories were still harmful, so she stopped them.  
“I realized something else.” She paused for a moment. “You are the only person who might be able to catch him.”  
He took a sip from his cup. It was rattling on his saucer, his hands shaking so much, but when he spoke his voice was eerily calm. So calm a shudder ran over her back.  
“I’m flattered by your trust, Susan. But I certainly didn’t make much headway so far.”  
“You know that’s not true. You came closer to him than anybody else. You managed to get one of his minions caught- alive. You accomplished a lot, Patrick.”  
His gaze wandered to the huge window at the back wall of the bull pen.  
“He’s out there, Susan, possibly still laughing his head off. But he will fall. He doesn’t know it yet, but he will be caught eventually.”  
He closed his eyes in pain, and suddenly he did look his years again. A wave of compassion washed over her. He had given much to the hunt. And he wasn’t done bleeding.  
“I need you to catch him for me, Patrick. And in return, I give you your life back.”  
His eyes were dark and slightly blood-shot.  
“Only catching him will give me back my life.”  
“You know what I mean. Your life at the CBI. Normalcy. The people you know.”  
She watched him closely, knowing they both thought of the same person. She saw his pupils dilate, his whole face going warm and soft. The innocence returning. He nodded imperceptibly, more to the memory of his guardian angel than to the kind of life she referred to.  
She put her hand on his and caught the faint startle running through his body. But he didn’t pull away, looking at their joint hands as if he were watching a disgusting alien insect.  
She pulled away. She knew he didn’t like touching, it gave him no comfort at all. Unless a certain dark-haired CBI-agent touched him.  
“I can give you back your job at the CBI,” she said. “In fact, I already got you re-instated.”  
He chuckled, the sound, bitter and humorless, filling the space around them.  
“That must have been quite a challenge.” He whispered.  
She shook her head. “Not at all. The CBI knows they can’t do without you. Closing rates plummeted dangerously while you were gone.”  
“I’m not what grants me normalcy, Susan,” he snorted, looking at her almost angrily, “I’ve always been my worst enemy. Do you think closing cases has given me solace? You’re a fool.”  
“I’m not. I know what gives you comfort. Or better- who gives you comfort.”  
He released a pained, wheezing breath, the sound almost ebbing into a sob. He stopped the despair before it could catch fire, but she saw how much it cost him.  
“You couldn’t be separated from each other with a crowbar,” she stated, “she’s part of the deal, Jane. Senior special agent Teresa Lisbon is still team leader of CBI’s Serious Crimes Unit. Your little stunt will have no effect on her career, and I know that’s an offer you can’t say no to.”  
He looked at her and nodded. “Of course not.”  
“I never understood her.” She mused, crossing her arms over her chest while she narrowed her eyes at him. “She risked everything she had accomplished, risked it for you, again and again. Backing you up in every illegal, breakneck plan you concocted. Followed you everywhere. Why?”  
His eyes looked as deep as the ocean, and she caught a glimpse of the storms thundering in his soul, all the time. She didn’t envy him.  
“I’m her weakness, Susan,” he croaked, “and if there were a hell, I would burn in it for that alone.”  
“I need you to do the interviews with Loralei Martin.”  
“I’m looking forward to it.”  
“You need to break her, Patrick.” Susan leaned closer. “She might be our gateway to catching him.”  
“She is.” He hissed. “And I’ll make her talk.”  
She straightened. She wasn’t sure, though- he looked dangerously out of control, and she couldn’t think of anything that would bring him back on track fast enough. She had to trust him that he would find a remedy for his burnt soul… in order to hunt Red John. For after all, that was what he did.  
She nodded at him.  
“I count on it.”

Xxxxxxxxxx

She was beautiful, there was no need to deny it. He was almost surprised that he didn’t hate her more, but he just felt a strange kind of pity for her. He watched her like a frog he was about to dissect.  
But he felt slightly queasy, and he didn’t like it at all. Where was the smartest person in the room when he needed him, damit? He had hardly slept last night, awakened by horrible dreams about Teresa Lisbon’s exploding head and lifeless, dead eyes. He shuddered.  
“Been sleeping bad, lover?” Loralei drawled, and for a moment he wanted to slap her. He got a grip fast.  
“I always sleep bad.” He smiled.  
“You haven’t when we spent the night together.”  
“That’s what I wanted you to believe.”  
Her smile didn’t falter, he had to give her that.  
“Poor, poor little Patrick, still trying to talk yourself into believing that I mean nothing to you. But I know what I mean, lover. I was your first.”  
He forced himself to laugh, although he dangerously felt like throwing up any minute.  
“My first,” he pressed out between gritted teeth, “was the love of my life. The woman I dedicated my life to from adolescence.”  
“You know what I mean,” she crooned, “you broke your celibate with me.”  
His calm returned. She wasn’t worth his ire.  
“I flexed a muscle with you.” He shrugged. “Nothing more. It wasn’t personal, Loralei.”  
She chuckled and leaned closer.  
“But it did feel so good, didn’t it?”  
He took a deep breath. He hadn’t been feeling all that much at the time. But he couldn’t deny that the experience had opened possibilities he hadn’t considered for years. Had aroused a longing that had nothing to do with this crazy, manipulative witch.  
“I functioned, “ he said, “nothing more.”  
“Yes, lover,” he hated how warm her voice sounded, as if she truly spoke to someone she loved. He had no doubt that she wasn’t capable of honest love. Just mindless worship for a serial killer. “Keep saying that, so maybe one day, you might believe it. But I know better. I’ll always do.”  
Her eyes got slightly dreamy when she looked at him.  
“We had a unique connection right from the start, lover. I saw you as the man you truly are. I bet no one did before.”  
He shook his head to clear his mind. He would leave HER out of this conversation, even in his mind. He didn’t want Lorelai tainting his thoughts of the one who truly mattered. Teresa Lisbon was his alone, safe in his very soul. He showed Loralei his pokerface.  
“You know, those schmaltzy lies you keep repeating might be terribly interesting for you, but I admit I’m a trifle bored already. Why don’t we talk about your lord and master? “  
Her smile was glittering like an icy crystal, creepy and mad.  
“Oh no, lover. Red John is mine alone.”

Xxxxxxxxxx

The attic was dark and cold when Jane awoke from a restless slumber, his face wet with tears. He knew he had screamed her name in his sleep, the echo of it still reverberating from the walls. Teresa.  
Why was he dreaming her death, again and again? She hadn’t been in any real danger all this time, he’d protected her. He would never, ever hurt her, would rather sacrifice his own worthless life than risk her safety.  
But he now knew that Red John had seen her. He had known it all along, of course, he wasn’t stupid. But the confirmation that the monster knew how much his green-eyed princess truly meant to him had given the hunt a new urgency.  
Sweet Teresa. His angel, his salvation, the core of his very soul.  
His best friend. The thought sobered him up quickly, and shame rose in his chest.  
She was his friend, and he had no right to complicate her life with wanting more. He had distracted her when she’d asked him about the “Love You”, had been evasive- and a liar. He wouldn’t ever forget what he’d said. It had come from the depths of his heart, where he saved the few treasures he had left. How could he forget? But he couldn’t tell her the truth, not now, not ever. She wasn’t for him. And that was good for her.  
“I love you.” He whispered in the clammy darkness. “I love you, Teresa.”  
It felt strange saying it, relieving and burdening at the same time. He got up slowly and could almost hear his joints creaking. He’d never felt as old as he did now, wasted, tired, empty.  
No, that wasn’t true- a bone-searing longing glowed inside his soul, hurting him into a screaming frenzy, and he couldn’t get rid of it.  
His hand still burned where hers had touched it. It had been the best sensation he could think of, had given him a warmth he had thought long lost. Had grounded him enough to make him breathe again. After the shit had hit the fan in the Nevada desert, holding her hand had been the only thing strong enough to make him want to go on.  
He shivered.  
He had no idea if he could ever treat her like a mere friend again. But he knew that if he didn’t try, he was dead already. He needed to get closer. Feel her presence. See her face. Breathe the air surrounding her, so some of her light would chase away his utter darkness.  
Slowly, stealthily, Teresa Lisbon had become his reason for everything.  
He watched his reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror over the sink and drove his hand through his sleep-tousled hair.  
Teresa, his mind screamed, go and find her, talk to her, make her smile. Do anything, just don’t stay away from her. Run! Find her!  
He took a shuddering breath and almost stormed out of the attic, following the scent of sweetness she seemed to leave for him everywhere in the building, a slight, soft disturbance in the air he would detect even in his sleep. She colored his whole world.  
He sought her out like a starving madman, and it scared him to no end.  
The lift doors whooshed shut, and he couldn’t stop his fingers from tapping a nervous rhythm on the wall next to his hip, his whole arm shaking with longing and excitement.  
Teresa. He had to get to her. Fast.


	2. Chapter 2

She was at her desk, as he’d known she would.  
The second he saw her a blissful relief washed all over him, and he longed to sink down in front of her, put his head in her lap, make her tenderly tousle his hair while he rubbed his face against her knee like a happy, furry little animal.  
She was so precious, so perfect his heart almost stopped mid-beat.  
“You’re a seriously bad case of workaholic, Lisbon,” he said, “are you aware that there are therapies for this kind of disorder?”  
She looked at him, her smile soft and open.  
“The work has to be done, Jane. I don’t see you finishing any paperwork, do I?”  
He snorted and walked to her couch, sinking down gracefully. “Meh, me filling out tedious forms for some stuck-up bureaucrat? Certainly not. I’m a crime-solving artist, Lisbon. I can’t be bothered with the exceedingly boring tasks of real life.”  
She chuckled, and the sound warmed his heart until it felt as hot as ember. Desire filled him. Touch her. Claim her. Engulf her in your arms until you are all she can see.  
“How was the interview with Loralei?” She asked. Her eyes were soft and compassionate now, and he wanted to flee into her arms and weep uncontrollably.  
“Disgusting.” He answered coolly.  
“Will you crack her?”  
“Like a coconut.”  
Lisbon smiled tentatively, but Jane felt vulnerable and insecure all of a sudden. He had to find a way to really get to Loralei, but he was so out of it at the moment he couldn’t see what was right before his eyes. His body and soul were filled with Lisbon’s intoxicating scent, vivid in the pillows surrounding him. He wanted to bury his face in them, rub himself to orgasm against their softness before he devoured the woman herself, her sweet smile so alluring, tempting him beyond words…  
“Come here, Lisbon.” He said softly, petting the space next to him. “I want to tell you a story.”  
“I don’t know, Jane…” She drawled, considering. “There’s still a lot of work to do and I…”  
“Did I ever tell you about the man I made eat a live snail because he believed it would be the only way to heal his daughter from a bad case of psoriasis?” There was no such man, of course, but he loved to tell her outrageous things just to see her reaction.  
She snorted in disgust, her delectable little nose wrinkling adorably. But she got up and sat down next to him.  
“That’s not nice, Jane.”  
He shrugged. “I’m not a nice man, agent Lisbon.”  
“And don’t I know that…” she groaned.  
He noticed that she always left some distance between them. Part of him congratulated her on her good judgment, but the other part screamed for him to pull her closer, make her sit on his lap, shower her with kisses regardless of the consequences.  
He noticed that she scrutinized him quite closely.  
“Not as attractive as you remembered me?” He smiled his megawatt smile, knowing it would possibly fall short. Her pale skin glowed in the half-darkness, the full moon casting a silver shine on her creamy perfection. He was a lunatic. He needed her more than his next breath.  
She lifted her hand, but stopped before she would have touched him. He almost cried out with disappointment.  
“Stop teasing, you moron.” Her voice sounded so soft and adoring, marking her harsh words as nothing but tough lies. “Fishing for compliments isn’t like you, Jane. Did you sleep?”  
”Soundly.” He lied.  
She didn’t even bother to point out his lie.  
“You could sleep here if you want to, you know.” Her sweet words a siren’s call. Soft-hearted little seductress. He wanted her so much.  
Suddenly, not touching her became a physical pain, searing his insides like acid. He swallowed the pained gasp he could feel at the back of his throat and did the only thing he could think of- he grabbed her hand. Her fingers were warm and tiny, and he lifted them to his face, pressing a gentle kiss on every sweet tip.  
“I would like that, Lisbon,” he whispered against her skin, “I would like that very much.”

Xxxxxxxxxx

“You wanted to talk about him, lover.” Loralei said in her drugged, sing-sang voice. “So let’s talk about my prince.”  
Her eyes moved away as if she were looking into a long lost fairytale that still filled her with longing on cold winter nights.  
“He is my light, my life,” she whispered,” he gave me soul and purpose. His every word lights up my essence, like an electric current put to a pond.”  
She looked at him.  
“He created me, and he will destroy me at his will. He’s the king of my heart, lover.”  
Jane snorted.  
“Yes, I bet he’s a real peach.”  
Loralei smiled at him as if he were a misbehaving boy who was simply too sweet to anger her very long.  
“He is, Patrick, and you could know that by now. He offered you his friendship, a priceless gift above all others. But you refused. It could have been marvelous, you know.”  
“Where did you meet him?” Jane said stiffly. Damn, that wasn’t the way to break through. She ignored him, as he knew she would the moment he had formed the words.  
“He would have given you what he has granted me, lover.” She continued. “Would have made you so much more than you could ever dream of being. But you were such a stubborn little fuss, Patrick. I don’t know if he will forgive you, you know.”  
“What a shame.” Jane muttered. “When his forgiveness is all I ever wanted…”  
“Scoff all you want, lover.” She chuckled. “But he would have found a way for you to overcome your bitterness. He is a magician, you know, and his touch heals hearts. It could heal yours.”  
“What do you know about my heart?”  
She stared at him, her eyes empty and transparent. Her smile became hollow as if she sank into a trance all of a sudden.  
“Lover- I know that it is just like mine.”

Xxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon woke up with a groan and sat up immediately, grabbing her throbbing skull with both hands. She was used to bad headaches, they came with her job, but she wasn’t used to the kind of dreams that had let to this bout of discomfiture. She whimpered with embarrassment.  
Her dreams were dark, intense, wildly erotic. And they all starred a certain pain-in-the-ass consultant with delightful blond hair and a smile that could melt steel.  
She could almost feel a woeful smile grow on her features. Fate was cruel. It played with her feelings, laughed at her. Made her hurt so bad, relentlessly.  
She got up with a sigh and walked the short distance to her bathroom, shivering in the slight cold of the early morning.  
She shed her oversized T-shirt, which was all she wore, and stepped into the shower. Hot water streamed over her skin, tickling the numb nerves into sensual awareness. Memories of her girly dreams returned, and she could almost feel his long, elegant fingers on her body, searching out her most sensitive spots until she glowed with desire, melting into his arms, begging for more.  
She opened her eyes, almost shaking with guilt and embarrassment. What was she thinking? Betraying him and herself, behaving like an irreverent teenager.  
But she was done lying. Done pretending, trying to fool herself. There was nothing she could do against the impact he’d had on her life.  
She loved him like she had never loved anyone before in her life.  
The pureness and heat of her feelings astounded her. He was in her thoughts all the time, was a throbbing pain in her heart, a mist of denied pleasure in her soul. She would die for him without batting an eye. Would give the last shred of sanity to keep him safe.  
It didn’t even surprise her any longer.  
She wasn’t completely delusional, though. She’d always known Jane would stay a wild card, at least as long as Red John was free.  
Nobody could ever know what Patrick Jane would do, what he could become. It was insanity that she trusted a man like him, but she did, trusted him with her life. She would walk to the end of the world for him. Back him up in any mad plan if he just asked her to help him.  
At the end of the day, she would be there to pick up the pieces.  
No need to deny it.  
She wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at her reflection, wet dark hair framing her pale face. She closed her eyes and touched her lips, trying to imagine what it would be like to kiss him, to drink from his mouth as if she were dying from thirst. In a way, she was. Being without him was unbearable, and he made the pain worse every time he took her hand, touched her cheek, wrapped his arm around her shoulder in an innocent-looking gesture of comradeship.  
He had touched her a lot since that day in the desert.  
He could play nonchalant and jovial while she burned up inside, wanting to slap him until he would stop her by shoving his tongue into her mouth.  
She wanted to pull his hair, scratch his back, make him bleed, mark him all over…she drew a shuddering breath. Time to take back some control here.  
She opened her eyes and took a closer look at herself. How much he had changed her. Changed her in ways she would never have thought possible.  
“Patrick.” She hummed in the solitude of her lonely home.  
She could never stop loving him. No matter how much it hurt- she would protect him. Would look out for him. Make sure he was as warm and safe as she could ensure.  
For despite the distance she had to keep, he would always be hers. As she was his.  
Until hell froze over, that would have to be enough.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane walked through the hall-like room at a slow pace, looking at the glowing whiteness all around him. The architect, a young, nerd-looking lad with an undying desire to serve and lick people’s boots followed him closely, curious to hear what he would say.  
The old warehouse had been empty for decades, but its structure was solid enough to survive centuries. Jane planned to live on the upper floor and leave the rest of the building untouched- he loved the charm of decrepit destruction, empty floors full of debris. Reminded him of his life after Red John had paid him that fatal visit nine years ago.  
The architect had replaced the old lift with a completely new one, installed state of the art security and carefully renovated the attic floor- exactly what Jane had told him to do.  
It was a single room without interior walls, only the bathroom was separated from the vastness of space. Two doors- front and bathroom. Everything wide open. No niches, no crevices where shadows could hide. Endless whiteness. He sighed.  
Huge windows covered a whole wall, leading onto a large deck, framed by a metal balustrade. He opened the French door and stepped outside, taking a deep breath.  
“What kind of wood is that?” he asked, indicating the shiny new boarding beneath his feet.  
“Teak, Mr. Jane,” the architect replied, “as you wanted it. Insanely expensive, if you ask me, but the best of the best.”  
“I don’t ask you.” Jane stated matter-of-factly, his voice as cool as the night air. He looked down into the glittering waters of Richardson bay. The sparkle of Sausalito’s nightlife gleamed in the distance. Buying property on Tiburon had been difficult and pricey, and he’d been lucky that the state of this old, forgotten warehouse hadn’t allowed truly unaffordable prices. Even more expensive had been the replacement of water pipes and electrical lines. But the peninsula suited his purpose just fine: he could see the world, but was all alone in its midst. Just the way he liked it.  
He hoped she would like it, too.  
He walked to the balustrade and touched the slightly baroque iron, artificially aged into a fashionable blackness. His first home since the murders. It still felt strange. He turned and nodded slowly.  
“It’s what I wanted.” He said calmly. “Good job.”  
The architect glowed with pride but managed to keep a cool façade. Not for Patrick Jane, though. He knew the little shit’s secrets all right. So young and already divorced. Struggling to prove his doubtful worth to overbearing parents, as he would do for the rest of his mediocre life. Yeah, he’d seen it all. With little effort, Jane could have sold him whatever he wanted. But he wasn’t in the mood for games today.  
“Shall I outfit the rooms for you, Mr. Jane?” The young man asked dutifully.  
“The kitchen and dining area.” Jane said after a moment of silence. “Send me some suggestions, I’ll decide fast. I want nothing I’ll have to wait for. I want to move in within the week. Buy me a bed with a hard mattress- a huge bed. A closet. A giant bathtub. I want everything ready on Friday. I’ll move my stuff on Saturday.”  
The architect nervously corrected the position of his glasses.  
“That’s…that’s fast, Mr. Jane, I don’t know…”  
“But I’ll pay for it, “Jane interrupted, his voice and eyes cold, “and I bet for the right amount of money, you can work magic, can’t you?”  
Not knowing if his client was trying to be amusing, the architect smiled an uncertain smile.  
“Of course, Mr. Jane. Everything will be ready on Friday.”  
“Fine.” Jane waved him away with an utterly arrogant, regal gesture. “Leave me alone now.”  
He heard the faint clapping of the closing door and released a pent-up breath. He leaned against one of the windows and slid down until he sat on the floor. The boards of the deck felt smooth and warm under his hands. It had been a sunny day, the structure had soaked up the heat like a sponge.  
Teresa. Every moment without her drained him of his energy. What had become of him? He’d never been like this before.  
He imagined her in the room behind his back. The bed would be next to the window, facing the bay. She might never be in it, but he couldn’t stop the images crashing through his mind. He closed his eyes and thought about her body, naked and warm from sleep and too much lovemaking, her hair fanned out across his pillow. He would possibly starve staring at her, so he would stop and move to kiss her awake…  
His eyes snapped open on a painful gasp.  
No, he couldn’t do that, couldn’t entertain painful fantasies like this and stay sane.  
He was destined to be alone. He’d always known that, so he wouldn’t start complaining now. Moisture dripped onto his shirt, and he lifted his hand to his face, finding the skin wet with tears.  
Teresa, his angel. He would bring her here, show her around as a friend. Secretly feeding his mind with pictures from her inside his home. Forcing her to spread her luscious, unique, sweet scent everywhere.  
Yes. He couldn’t wait to show her his lair.


	3. Chapter 3

He watched her for a while, standing in the shadows in front of her office door. She yawned heartily, putting her hand over her mouth as if she wanted to incarcerate her tiredness. Damn, she was adorable.  
He studied her calm, exhausted face, the soft spread of tiny freckles on her nose, the full, pouty lips. Made for his kiss. It would feel so good. Magical. Wonderful. Why couldn’t he simply do what he really wanted?  
Because she would slap him into unconsciousness, that is.  
“Still working, you incorrigible little overachiever?” He drawled, his smile feeling tender and honest on his face.  
His heart was a bleeding wound these days, and he felt the pressure worsen when she looked up and smiled back. Her smile. Just for him.  
She lifted her hand to her forehead in a military greeting.  
“Yes, Sir- right here at work, Sir.”  
He chuckled, walked over to her desk and grabbed the pen she was holding.  
“Hey!” She shouted. “Jane, I was using that!”  
He wagged his finger at her.  
“Uh uh- you’re done, little princess. Your prince is taking you on a very romantic journey through the night.”  
“In your car?” She asked doubtfully. “It’s not exactly getting more trustworthy with the years, you know?”  
“Stop making a fuss, Lisbon.” He scolded, but his smile was as sweet as always. “Everyone can survive a ride in a SUV. We’re gonna have an adventure tonight.”  
She hesitated a moment, but gave in after a few seconds, as he’d known she would, of course.  
“Okay,” she growled, grabbing her purse, “any chance of you telling me where we’re going?”  
“In your dreams, Lisbon.”  
No, she thought, swallowing drily. In my dreams, you aren’t talking all that much. She loudly cleared her throat to hide her shame.  
“Well, shall we?” He asked jovially and gently shoved her out the door.

Xxxxxxxxxx

She could never stop watching him. His face was calm and relaxed while he drove through the night, never going too fast- for her benefit, she was sure of it.  
His lips looked so soft. She really wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. But it wasn’t possible…was it? She might never want to stop. Might turn into one of those needy, clingy women who carried their perpetual love sickness like a gown.  
She had kissed her brothers on occasion, yes. But this would be different- she had a crush the size of Alaska for Jane, and that was putting it mildly. It was never a good idea to play with love.  
Her hands slid over her leg, feeling the roughness of the blue denim beneath her fingers, trailing the bony contours of her knee as if she simply had to touch something, would go insane from the itch to pull him close and hold him tight when her hungry hands weren’t busy.  
She sighed. It still hurt to imagine him with Loralei, although she’d become used to the effort of blocking her thoughts by now. It wasn’t her place to be jealous. Jane had never promised her anything, he wasn’t hers. And she drew some comfort from the fact that he undoubtedly wasn’t in love with Loralei now.  
Damn, what was she thinking? What would she do when the moment came and Patrick Jane DID fall in love? He would eventually, she was sure of it. Beneath all his layers of “much too complicated”, he was a wonderful man.  
His features were starkly beautiful in contemplation, his lips slightly parted, and Lisbon felt a spark of contentment spread inside her stomach. It felt good to be so close to him, no matter what. She recognized the general direction he was taking- San Francisco. The Bay.  
The night held a pleasant coolness, so she leaned back, inhaled the fresh air and imagined driving into the sunset with her sexy boyfriend- oh my god, her brain was pure mush these days.  
Boyfriend? She chuckled helplessly.  
“What’s so funny?” He asked, his smile palpable in his voice.  
She shook her head, still fighting with laughter.  
“Ignore me, Jane. It’s just me.”  
His eyebrows rose .  
“YOU are funny? I don’t know Lisbon, in my experience you are among the most earnest, no-nonsense, maybe downright boring people I… Ow!!! Don’t hit me, woman, I’m driving!”  
“I’ll hit you until you shut up, Jane,” She growled. “and by the way, aren’t you a bag of laughs yourself ?!”  
He chuckled, already belying her words.  
“I am not, sweet Lisbon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not funny.”  
She snorted.  
“Sarcasm doesn’t count.”  
“Oh? I don’t know, I seem to make you smile on a regular basis.”  
“I smile out of sheer desperation, Jane,” she hissed.  
His laugh was pure and full, she wanted to kiss it from his lips so bad, learn its taste and shape until she was drunk and lost.  
“And you look so pretty when you’re desperate, my sweet,” he said, “by the way, we’re there.”  
He stopped the car and as soon as the motor died down, eerie silence stretched out between them.  
She was puzzled. As far as she could see, they were in the big dark nothing. She could see the lights of San Francisco somewhere in the distance, the silhouette of Golden Gate Bridge still bright and busy in the twilight, but right around them, there were rocks, blackness and the slight lapping sound of tiny waves.  
“Where exactly are we?” she asked. “There’s nothing here.”  
“Just because you can’t see it yet, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there, Lisbon. Trust me.”  
“In your dreams, Jane.” The answer had been automatic, spoken without thought. A lame retort, and a lie to top it off.   
He leaned over until their faces almost touched. Lisbon could feel her own breath gliding against his face, his lips, saw the sparkle in his deep, light eyes, staring at her intently.  
“Oh, don’t lie to me, Teresa.” He whispered. “I can read every little untruth on your beautiful face, and you know it.”  
He tilted his head, looking at her as if he were watching a painting. He lifted his fingers to her face and touched her lips, the contact sensual and light, sending sparks of desire through Lisbon’s body. She shivered slightly.  
“So pretty.” He breathed.  
She saw something wild and uncontrolled in his gaze, a fierceness that should make her run. But she came closer and kissed his fingertips, smiling to give the gesture something harmless, innocent. He pulled back as if burnt, almost scrambling away from her. Disappointment and relief battled for supremacy inside her, but she exhaled a pent-up breath when he finally spoke.  
“Well, let’s have a look, shall we?”   
He got out of the car and started to walk in the direction of the bay, not waiting for her. Lisbon frowned and followed, moving fast to catch up with him. A strange feeling of foreboding grew inside her. There was something off here. Something told her the night wouldn’t end well.   
They walked around a group of large, wild trees, and there was it- the huge, massive carcass of an old warehouse, its boarded up windows staring at them like eyes. Debris lay in piles all around them.   
He stopped and looked at the scenery in what seemed like quiet contentment.  
“What’s that?” Lisbon asked after quite some time of silently wondering.  
“My new home.”  
Her eyebrows rose almost to the hairline. She looked back at the old, neglected giant of a building in front of her.  
“Well, “she said eventually, “at least it’s considerably bigger than the last one.”  
He smiled brightly.  
“Don’t mock me, Lisbon. I didn’t have a home in years, I’m vulnerable here. I’m showing you my personal fortress…so be kind, please.”  
She sighed, lifting her hands in defeat.  
“Okay, okay, lead the way.”  
He walked to the entrance, pulled out his cellphone and pressed some keys.  
The old metal gate was creaking awfully and led into a gloomy hall full of clutter and waste. Piles of stones and chalky earth, dust and rotten wood. Ceiling beams had crashed to the floor, revealing the metal skeleton beneath the plaster.  
“You’re sleeping here?” Lisbon hissed, “Jane, I forbid this, it is not safe, dammit!”  
“Meh, it’s perfectly safe, Lisbon. Shut your delicious little mouth and let me show you.”  
He walked up to an ancient lift door that looked as if it would fall off its hinges any moment. He pressed a button, and Lisbon wondered if he had really gone off the reservation now. What were they doing here?  
She reared back when the doors slid open almost without a sound, revealing a brand new, shiny lift cabin, clad in dark red velvet. It reminded her of the opulent elevator of a luxury hotel. She stared at him, open-mouthed.  
“Yes,” he shrugged, “a little decadent, I know. But I thought after all the dirt they have to walk over, I’ll flash my visitors with the splendor of my lift to make up for the effort.”  
He took her hand and led her into the brightly lit cabin. She found herself holding tight, pressing his long, slim fingers, pulling comfort from every tiny touch these days. One of her most wonderful dreams was sleeping next to him, her head on his chest, listening to the soft in and out of his breath. Pain filled her. Just one kiss? Just one. As a friend. She could feed her lonely soul with it and keep her insides warm.  
The doors slid open and revealed a small hallway full of more debris. In the middle of the opposite wall was a huge door, painted white, its outline almost vanishing against its equally white surroundings. Jane slid a key into the lock and opened up.   
As soon as he flicked a switch, soft illumination flared up.  
Lisbon gasped. The hall was huge, like a ballroom, and clearly sparkling new. Clean white walls, giant windows covering the entire wall in front of her, even more windows in what seemed to be the kitchen. It was the only completely outfitted part of the apartment, the rest was almost empty. A large bed stood in front of the windows. An antique wooden closet on the left wall. And the obligatory couch, looking exactly as old and worn as the one he used in the bullpen at CBI, sitting in front of a small TV-set. Some cardboard boxes. Nothing more.  
The kitchen was to the right, it looked cozy and inviting, dark wood everywhere. A small table with two matching chairs sat in front of the counter.  
She put her hand against the smooth tabletop , stroking the shiny wood in a gentle gesture.  
She turned and looked at him.  
“Breathtaking.” She said.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Oh yes, he thought, you are.  
To distract himself from the evil thoughts running through his mind, he took off his jacket and draped it over a chair’s backrest.  
He’d never had problems to lie, dammit. Lying was second nature to him. So why was he feeling wide open now, almost unable to play the nonchalant fool he liked to portray?  
She was here. The spot of utter darkness he always tried to conceal screamed for him to never let her go again. He wanted her, needed her like a madman.  
Red John, he thought. Think about Red John. You can’t crack Loralei because you’re going soft in the head. Because suddenly, you have to dream about hearts and flowers all the time. Yes, that was it- his silly feelings made him weak. At a time when he needed his strength more than anything.  
“Wine?” he asked as cheerfully as possible and walked to the fridge, groping for his best bottle of overly expensive Riesling.  
“Yes, I’d like that.” She answered, and her voice was so soft, so warm- she was perfect goodness, an angel caught in a dungeon. He had no right to taint her. His life had been over the moment Red John had introduced himself into it, and he could never be more than a devil in disguise now. He had no business desiring his pure little faery.  
He poured two glasses and handed her one of it, careful not to touch her in the process.  
The wine was excellent, the money well invested, and Jane closed his eyes to savor the smooth aroma washing around his taste buds, imagining how the taste would mingle with hers in the sweet darkness of her mouth. He wanted to sample her flavor. One kiss. He would never ask for more and die gladly.  
Liar. The moment she kissed him, he would grab her in a strangling hold and not release her until he had thoroughly sated himself on her body, again and again, until the sweat pooled between them and the night cooled their heated skin… his body lurched with interest at the thought, and he fought to push the excitement down.  
He let his gaze follow her graceful movements, heard her gentle approval as if through a wall of hot fog.  
Her voice made him hard.  
For a painful moment, utter despair gripped him. What had he done, how could he bring her here? There was no escape from this, he was a helpless victim to his roaring feelings, and what was even worse- he had put her into danger. What if he really lost it while she was with him, and decided he had to consummate his love for her right now?  
He regained control, taking one deep breath after the other. Damn, what was the matter with him? He couldn’t catch Red John like this. There was work to be done, and he was blinded by his silly heart, throbbing inside his chest like a sore muscle.  
He flinched slightly when she sat down on his bed.  
“Do you mind if I take off my shoes?” She said slowly, smiling her perfect smile, clear like crystal water. ”I’ve been on my feet since early morning…”  
“Be my guest,” he said as calmly as he could, then toed off his own shoes and socks on a sudden whim.   
The wooden floor felt solid and real under his naked feet, grounding him. He sighed in relief. Good idea.  
“Come on,” he said, much more in control now, “I show you my favorite place.”  
He opened the French door and stepped onto the sun warmed terrace, the cool air soothing his fevered body until he felt calm again.  
“Wow,” she exclaimed behind him.  
He chuckled.  
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  
She hummed softly and sat down on the floor, gracefully folding her legs under her body. He sat down next to her, his back propped up against one of the large windows. His favorite position- he had spent countless nights sitting like this, watching the glitter of Sausalito, the quiet buzz of the Golden Gate Bridge.  
They sipped their wine in comfortable silence, but she was far too close. He could almost smell the sweetness of her skin, a flavor rich and urgent. As if she were made of sheer cotton candy. His mouth watered. One kiss, just one. There was nothing he wanted more… Red John. He was losing focus here.  
“What’s over there?” She said, her voice low as if she was afraid to disturb the quiet around her, her hand indicating the picturesque strip of lights they were looking at.  
“Sausalito.” He answered. “Very nice. Good restaurants.”  
She looked at him and smiled, and he felt his aching heart open up like a flower.  
“I hardly know San Francisco.” She whispered.  
“That’s because you’re always stuck in your gloomy office, Teresa.”  
She leaned her head against the glass behind her and sighed.  
“I guess you’re right. This is wonderful, Jane. A little creepy, but hey- it somehow suits you. Sorry I didn’t bring salt and bread… for good luck.”  
“Why don’t you give me a kiss instead?” He said before he could stop the foolish words, “I would certainly feel lucky.”  
Slap me, he thought. Slap me hard and laugh into my face. I’m silly, irreverent Patrick Jane, I flirt with you constantly and you never take me seriously, so just hit me and get it over with. Please.  
But Lisbon just sat there, thinking for a moment before she exhaled a tiny “sure, why not?” and leaned over, pressing her lips on his.  
It could have been an innocent, harmless kiss between good friends. He could have pulled away immediately, smile a bright smile and ask her if she wanted more wine. They could have ended the night with a friendly hug and a warm goodbye, and he could go to work tomorrow rested and on top of his game.  
But the moments her lips touched his, desire ate him up like a disease, devoured him in seconds, made him so greedy and hot he could hardly swallow his moans. Her lips were cool and dry against his fevered heat, her taste clear and warm, sweetness wrapping around his senses like a trapping.  
The moment she pulled back he chased her, catching her mouth yet again. They kissed gently, softly, over and over, but he was feeling anything but gentle all the time, his mind screaming at him to prepare for a night of sinful, endless sex, take her again and again, make her scream, sweat, only to claim her once more, riding her body as hard as his desperation demanded.  
He forgot everything when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, drowning in her essence without putting up a fight, an addiction building he wouldn’t overcome for the rest of his life. He would be her slave, she his whole universe, filling his dark soul with light again.  
Her tongue was toying with his, swirling around nerves so sensitive he jerked with pleasure, his rock hard cock throbbing in his pants. Her hand slid over his arm, gently kneading the muscles of his shoulder, her fingers splayed against his flesh. He imagined their future, cooking for her, showing her every single restaurant he knew, spending days in his, their bed, laughing, kissing, fucking, talking endlessly….  
No!!!  
A blood red smiley face appeared in front of his eyes, an ocean of gore, despair so deep he could hardly breathe through it. The moment he had kissed Loralei to do his duty, playing the love struck fool to make her believe in it. He’d done his duty. Fulfilled his obligation. Vengeance, revenge, seeing Red John’s blood drain from his veins in an endless flood of satisfaction. THAT was who he was. That was his life, his essence.  
He tore his lips away from Lisbon’s and scrambled to bring distance between them.   
He saw the confusion in her eyes and couldn’t bear it, not a second longer, he needed her GONE.  
He got up, his legs weak and shaky, he grabbed the balustrade to hold him upright.  
“You should leave now.” He said, shocked at how cold his voice sounded. Freezing.   
“Jane, I…” her voice trembled.  
“Don’t talk to me now.” He thundered. “Just go.”  
He didn’t turn until he heard the door slamming behind her. Then he sank down on the floor and wept uncontrollably, right in the middle of the destroyed carcass that was his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Lisbon could hardly see through the veil of tears, her nose running, her face wet. She kicked every rock she found until her toes hurt.  
She walked almost half an hour, trying to get rid of the state-sized lump inside her guts before she called a cab with her cellphone, her voice shaking with crying and longing and anger at him and herself and the unfairness of it all.  
She didn’t say anything on the way home, just sat in the back of the car sobbing, unable to forget his utter coldness when he had thrown her out.  
Why in hell had she kissed him? She’d known he’d been out of it ever since he’d returned from Las Vegas. It would have been her duty to be sane and sensible where he couldn’t, to slowly coax him back into the daylight from the spot of perpetual darkness he seemed to hide in all the time. Instead she had made everything worse with this first kiss.  
He possibly never wanted to see her again. She didn’t even know if she wanted to see him again, dammit.  
Yeah, whom was she kidding. The moment he would show up in her office, she would open her arms and pick up the pieces. Business as usual. There was nothing she could do against her love for him. It made her soft and entirely too altruistic to be much of a challenge, but she didn’t wear the nickname “Saint Teresa” for nothing.  
Even now, rejected and humiliated, she was worried about him, wondered if he might be doing something stupid. She thought about calling him right now, but stopped herself at the last moment.  
He just needed to regain his composure, she told herself, he would be fine. She could kick his ass tomorrow, and everything would be back to normal in no time.  
But she felt icy cold inside, awash with a loneliness that seemed to suffocate her cruelly and slowly.  
She was bone tired when the cab pulled up in front of her apartment, her hands shaking when she paid the driver and opened the door, the air that greeted her cold and stale.   
She let her clothes drop without caring where they landed and took a long, scalding shower, the hot stream of water mingling with the wetness of her tears.  
She crawled into her bed naked, defeated, and curled into a ball, eventually crying herself to sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxx

“You look bad, lover.”   
Loralei’s voice was soft with concern. His hand itched to hit her.  
“Don’t call me that.” He snarled.  
“It’s what you are, lover.” She said. “What we have is beautiful and unique. But look at you, poor Patrick. Is that what you’re gonna do with your remarkable mind? Solve boring crimes for boring people? What a waste, lover.”  
He knew he wouldn’t break her then. He couldn’t. He would fail again, and again. Would die trying.  
“You fight against windmills, love. Trying to deny your future, your fate, but you will accept it eventually. Your life is boring and shallow, and the chase has long lost its fascination. What are you waiting for? There is no good and bad, Patrick. You might have thought that you lied while you told me this, but in your heart, you know it’s true.”  
He stayed stubbornly silent, disappointed that his skills would leave him now, when he was so close to fulfilling his fate. He remembered his smiling, wonderful little daughter, and the pain was so strong he wanted to double over and never get up again.  
“Look at your life, lover- lonely, empty, stale. Was that what you dreamed about when you were young? Chasing a shadow until you’re old and grey and wasted? There is so much more, Patrick. I was like you once. But I am happy now. My heart is like yours, lover. There’s still time.”  
Her dark eyes were alive with a glittering fire. He found her strangely alluring all of a sudden, even as his body recoiled from any closeness. He wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. Why didn’t he even attempt to look away?  
“Red John still wants you, lover,” She said, “you could shed this coat of guilt and shame and self-hate. Take his hand, and he can lead you into the light. You just have to say yes, Patrick.”  
Jane bolted up in a flurry of movement. He felt dizzy and nauseous, struggling to stay upright. He made a sound he didn’t recognize as his own, a strangled, croaking wail that showed him even more that he had lost his touch, his control, his goal.  
He stormed out of the interrogation room and sank down in the hallway, breathing hard, tears spilling onto his cheeks. Damn, what a cry-baby he’d become. It was all over. He would never catch Red John, not like this.  
Was Loralei right? Was his heart like hers, black and cold, unable to tell right from wrong? Was his life empty and futile, without beauty and purpose, bound to be an endless series of humiliation, defeat and boring mind games, marked by a hunt he couldn’t finish, prey he couldn’t catch? There was nothing good in his existence.  
Suddenly he straightened. The tears stopped falling, and glassy clarity sank into his clenching heart.  
It wasn’t true.   
There was someone, a light he had almost extinguished, beauty he had pushed away. There was something good in his life. The only thing that really made it worth living.   
Not Red John. He’d been a fool, giving the monster a power he didn’t deserve. Loralei was a born seductress, and he had almost fallen into her trap. Stupid, stupid Jane, after all the practice and training. Emotions were a dangerous thing. If they just wouldn’t feel so good sometimes.  
But he wasn’t a victim. He would get back what he needed to stay sane, he would make Teresa Lisbon his, once and for all.  
He closed his eyes and remembered the taste of her kiss, the slight pressure of her lips against his. He would stop running away, right this instance. He was hers. He would fight for her, would give his last drop of blood to make her forgive him.  
She could do to him whatever she wanted. But he wouldn’t turn his back on her again.  
He got up and straightened his clothes, ignoring the puzzled look of a single watchman down the hall.   
He would win his princess’ heart first.  
Then he would slay the dragon that had almost cost him his future once more.

Xxxxxxxxxx

He had a lot of his confidence back when he pulled up in front of headquarters. He smiled at Jim and threw him a cheerful little wave before he stormed into the building, immediately heading for Lisbon’s office.   
She sat at her desk again, looking sad and lost and pissed, and he longed to simply take her into his arms, make her forget what he had done to her. Not a good idea, he was sure of it.  
He stepped over the threshold and waited until she looked up, glaring at him, her huge eyes already swimming with tears despite her obvious effort to show him angry. She wiped harshly at them, sniffling slightly. His heart burned with shame and love.  
He took the single red rose he had brought and put it down in front of her.  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.  
She needed some moments to compose herself. She took a deep breath, almost visibly releasing the anger she must have been feeling after he had thrown her out. She was so serious, sensible, the born team-leader. Thinking of others even with a broken heart.  
His hands itched to touch, to make it better, to soothe the pain he could still see in her eyes.   
Teresa. I can’t live without you.  
“It’s okay, Jane.” She said, her eyes still hurt and wet. “You’re still recovering from what happened in Las Vegas. I shouldn’t have pushed you into a corner like that. I should have known that you would lash out. Let’s forget what happened and just move on, okay?”  
“Let me take you out, Teresa.” He said, forcing a gentle smile when all he wanted was to sink down on his knees begging. ”Have dinner with me- tonight.”  
She shook her head, vigorously.  
“No, Jane. That’s not a good i…”  
“Teresa, I beg you. I won’t sleep another night until you allow me to make amends.”  
Pretty mean to call upon her natural protectiveness, but then, he’d never said he was a nice man. He saw her resolution falter, break.  
He moved in for the kill.  
“I know a wonderful little restaurant in Sausalito. You will love it. Please, Lisbon, let me show you how very sorry I am. I know I’ve been an ass. But I can’t go on like this. It eats me up inside. Please, Teresa.”  
He made puppy dog eyes at her and knew he’d won when she sighed in defeat.  
“Okay.” She said. “When and where?”  
He showed her a deep, honest smile this time, butterflies flying circles in his stomach.  
“I’ll pick you up at six at your apartment… wear something nice.”  
“Six?? Jane, I can’t leave work that…”  
He reacted to a sudden bold impulse and put his fingers against her lips, silencing her.  
“No complaining anymore, Lisbon. It’s a long drive to San Francisco. Six o’ clock.”  
He straightened and kissed his fingers where they had touched her lips. His eyes were deep and hypnotic.  
“I can’t wait, Teresa.”

Xxxxxxxxxx

Idiot, Teresa Lisbon thought and stuck out her tongue at her own reflection.  
How in hell could she be so stupid after years and years of working on her toughness? And now she fell like a stone because a blond pretty boy fluttered his lashes at her. Damn, she couldn’t believe it.  
Could this evening end in anything else but complete disaster?  
She groaned heartily and stepped into her underwear.  
That’s black lace, Teresa Lisbon, will you stop this? Nobody will see it, dammit!  
She closed her eyes and shut the closure of the bra, which emphasized the firmness of her breasts in a very appetizing way.  
Stupid. Beyond words.   
What had she thought, leaving work before six o’clock for him, wagging her tail like a good little puppy just because the master wished an early dinner?  
Oh no! The word “master” evoked fantasies that definitely had no business swirling through her mind tonight.  
She went to her closet and chose her red dress after a quiet moment of contemplation. It came to mid-thigh, wasn’t too tight, but short-sleeved and comfortable. It screamed “Fuck me” without making her feel like a piece of meat.  
Her eyes snapped open. Oh my god, it screamed WHAT?  
She startled violently when the doorbell rang, the sound loud and alien, crashing through her indecent thoughts.  
Great.  
Let the games begin.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane had spent the past hours in a state of nervousness and agitation.  
He couldn’t believe his sudden insecurity. He had lied and seduced for years, could wrap anyone he wanted around his little finger without even trying, but love made him speechless. He felt like an untried boy.  
When he had wooed his wife all those years ago, he’d been a young, charming good-for-nothing. Now he was an old, depressed good-for-nothing. Teresa definitely got the worse deal with this, but it couldn’t be helped: she wouldn’t push him away tonight. He would use every skill in his arsenal to melt her resistance, use every advantage she gave him.  
He would never regain his equilibrium without her. Teresa Lisbon was the key to his sanity, and damn- he would have her tonight. He straightened his impeccable clothes, feeling the softness of the black silk beneath his fingers.  
He was madly in love, his wild heart throbbing in his chest like a jungle drum, but tonight he was a seducer, the wolf readying himself to devour Little Red Riding Hood.  
The image almost made him jump when she opened the door, wearing a short, bright red dress. His pupils dilated until they seemed to swallow his whole face, and he felt his control slipping dangerously.  
He had to stay as cool as possible. But the heat didn’t ask for permission and spread through his core; after seconds his whole body was throbbing.  
She looked absolutely mind-blowing. The dress hugged her slim curves, her perfect breasts pushing against the confines of the bodice. Her narrow waist seemed made for his hands, flowing into sexy hips and surprisingly long, slender legs.   
He swallowed and looked into her eyes.  
She wore no make-up, her face as pure and beautiful as a crystal lake. Her long dark hair was put up tonight, showing him the slim, creamy column of her neck.  
Food seemed pretty unimportant all of a sudden.  
Words eluded him. He was the master of flattery, meaningless or not, but right now he couldn’t say anything.  
“You look breath-taking, Teresa,” he whispered eventually, “you sure you want to go out with ME?”  
He saw the utterly vulnerable glimmer in the depths of her eyes, felt how scared she was to be hurt again. He wanted to take her into his arms and reassure her, tell her that he would never lose it again like that, that he would protect her forever.  
But he knew that he shouldn’t come too close at the moment, so he just stepped in front of her and fastened the small arrangement of dark red flowers he had bought for her onto her dress. It was a romantic little gesture, marking her as his queen, as if he were her date for the prom night. He kissed her cheek and regretted it immediately. His body recognized its consort, it got hard like a rock for her, madness creeping over him like a million tiny feet.   
She tasted heavenly, bright and soft against his own decrepit gloominess and he instantly wanted more, wanted to do sinful, wild things to her he hadn’t wanted to do in ages.  
He inhaled her sweet scent before he forced himself to pull away.  
“Shall we go?” He breathed hoarsely and offered her his arm.  
They hardly talked on their way to Sausalito. His erection hurt like hell and refused to diminish, screaming for her body, her caress. Needing her attention so much he could hardly breathe.  
He swallowed the pain and cursed his lack of control, something he absolutely wasn’t used to. She made him weak, alright. But maybe it wasn’t weakness. Maybe it was strength in disguise.  
In the darkness of the car, he reached over and slid his knuckles over her soft cheek.  
“You’re so beautiful.” He said.  
“Jane, please…”  
“Shhh! Don’t talk, Lisbon. I’m thinking.”  
She fell silent and he almost chuckled. His angry little princess. He would take good care of her- until his last breath, she would be cherished and protected. Okay… maybe she would protect him. But he would love her so much that she wouldn’t mind saving his worthless butt from time to time.  
He sensed her watching him, but she didn’t say anything, so he smiled and stayed silent himself.   
The restaurant he had chosen was small and intimate, the food excellent. But by the time they entered the cozy little dining area, he had serious doubts that they would sample the food tonight.  
He had paid every waiter a hundred bucks in advance, ordering them to make her feel like a queen tonight, but leave them alone while they were waiting for dinner. He wanted no interruptions, wanted to concentrate solely on her.  
She sat down opposite him, watching the waiter while he poured their wine. The most expensive liquid Jane had seen in a while, but he would spend a fortune tonight without batting an eye, just to show her how much she meant to him.  
He sighed.  
He couldn’t imagine that Teresa Lisbon got off on sweet talk and pretty lies. So he tried a different approach this time: brutal directness.  
“You know, Teresa- you look absolutely breathtaking tonight. In fact, I find myself less and less interested in food the longer I look at you.”  
He saw her eyes going wide and smiled. It was a wanton, predatory smile, and he knew she understood when her eyes went even wider.  
“Jane,” she whispered, “I really don’t think…”  
He put his hand on hers, his elegant slim fingers spread wide, caging her beneath them as if he were staking a claim.  
“Teresa,” he growled, his lips almost trembling under the onslaught of lust and deep feelings, “don’t you want me inside you?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content in this chapter!

„Jane!“ She cried out, but it came out a lot weaker than she had intended.  
He moved his fingers, trapping her small hand in his larger one, maximizing the contact until it almost felt like making love. He licked his lips, slowly, reverently.  
“I can think of nothing else, Teresa.” He whispered. “Nothing. Since I held your hand in the desert, I have been constantly imagining what it would feel like to take you, to sink my hardness into your soft, wet, pliant flesh. To have your body hug me like a fist, until I explode in your depths in a flood of white heat.”  
She made a tiny, strangled sound at the back of her throat.  
His fingers rubbed hers in a seductive, sinful way, awakening every nerve ending until her panties were so wet it felt direly uncomfortable. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. In the gloomy darkness of the restaurant, his pupils huge, making his whole eyes look black, his moist lips slightly parted, his tense body strong and towering while she felt smaller and smaller, she almost expected him to sprout horns any minute.  
Yes, he looked like the devil incarnate, and she instantly knew that she didn’t stand a chance this time. If he decided to chew her up and spit her out, that was her fate.  
She tried to fight, tried to regain her common sense before it was too late, tried to remember who she was, what she was, tried to focus on the strength and coolness that made her a kick-ass cop.  
But he lifted her hand and sucked her index finger into his mouth, bathing her skin with hot licks of his tongue, and she knew she was lost.   
When the waiter came with their plates and Jane released her hand for a moment, she knew that she wouldn’t consume any of the food tonight. Her throat was closed, any trace of hunger gone while he awakened a different hunger inside her, one she couldn’t possibly still in a lifetime.  
She was scared. And more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.  
“Do you have any idea how hard I am for you, Teresa?” he continued when the waiter was out of earshot, his warm hand slowly sliding up her arm, tickling sensitive spots until she almost squirmed in her seat. “I could drive nails, my dear. I so long to finally get between your legs, own you, make you mine for the rest of our days. I love you, Teresa. But believe me- there’s nothing innocent about my feelings.”  
He lifted her hand again and kissed it, covering her skin inch for inch with wet, open-mouthed caresses, groaning deeply again and again until the sound of his pleasure was a separate entity, making their lust mingle in the sparking air between them. She sensed him undulate his hips beneath the tabletop and it almost drove her insane, made her desire him so much she wanted to scream for him to touch more than just her hand.  
“I will have to take you hard, Teresa.” His voice vibrated in the air, deep and luscious. “Given my current state nothing else will suffice. I will fuck you for hours, until neither of us can move any longer. Which will take a while- I have lots and lots of stamina, my precious little bird, I assure you. And I want nothing but you.”  
He leaned over, carefully avoiding the cooling food between them, and gripped the cross she wore around her neck. Not really pulling, but making her come closer nonetheless.  
“Don’t try to distract me, my sweet.” He growled, all but baring his teeth at her. “Tonight, you’re mine for the taking, and I won’t stop until you’re spread beneath me, wide open and willing to accept whatever I want to do to you.”  
She wanted to make one of her usual barbs, wanted to put him into his place immediately, but the arousal was so strong, his words almost pulsating in her head, the urge to relinquish control just this once so strong…  
As soon as he released her pendant she bolted, racing towards the restroom as fast as her shaking legs would carry her, trying to bring distance between her and the man who so easily could bring her down with a mere flick of his hand.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane’s body felt as if it were on fire. His erection throbbed and hurt and made him want to howl, but he forced himself to take another sip of the excellent wine while he waved the waiter over.  
He handed the young man another hundred-dollar-bill.  
“Nobody enters the ladies’ restroom until I leave it,” Jane said coolly, while he felt as if his inner organs were exploding one by one. “I don’t care how you accomplish this.”  
“Of course, Mr. Jane.” The waiter bowed discretely . “You won’t be disturbed.”  
Jane nodded and got up, walking slowly to the restrooms, taking great care to keep his erection invisible by pressing his hand on the prominent bulge. He hated to be undignified, but it couldn’t be helped tonight. His inner lion demanded satisfaction now and he would take it. Hunt his little prey down and devour her on the spot.  
He opened the restroom door and immediately slammed it behind him. The light was soft and seductive, and he caught her sweet, flowery scent in the air.   
It drove him mad, shredding the last of his self-control.   
He felt his nostrils flare like a bull’s.  
She looked at him warily until he saw something giving way inside her beautiful, moss green eyes, saw her whole face go wide with lust, her stance shifting, legs spreading slightly for his intrusion. She would accept him.  
The thought made him lose it completely.  
He grabbed her hips in a bruising-hard hold and forcefully sat her down on the counter next to the sink. His lips were already pressed on hers, his tongue shoved deep into her throat when he reached between her legs and ripped off her panties. She was wet for him, oh so wet, and she stole his mind with her taste and kiss and touch, her hands driving into his hair, disheveling, pulling the strands in her need to get closer.  
She growled his name into his mouth, again and again, begging, urging, and he almost screamed with ecstasy, feeling like a junkie scrambling for his next fix.  
She pushed her hot little hands under his shirt, scratching and kneading his naked torso while he almost ripped open his belt and fly, pulling her hips closer. His legs buckled when she let her fingers slide over his cock, and he sucked on her tongue as if he were dying of thirst. Their kisses were hungry and fevered and he desperately needed relief, consummation now, his hands frantic on her body, his grip hard and relentless.  
Teresa.  
He wrapped her slim legs around his waist and rammed his cock inside her as hard as he could.   
Her whole body tensed in a perfect arch as she cried out in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into his flesh, it hurt so good, he needed more. Her body hugged him like a hot glove, too tight for him to get in easily, but she was so wet, and she urged him on, whispering lustful pleas into his ear.  
“Yes,” He answered hoarsely, letting his lips slide over her throat to her shoulder where he took care to give her a murderous hickey, “Yes, Teresa- everything you want.”  
He started to thrust, not trying to hold back, his hips slamming against hers in a nerve-wrecking rhythm, wet sounds of lust filling the room around them.  
Jane moaned heavily, his mind spinning out of control, his want drowning everything but the sensations on his lips, his cock, all over his burning skin.  
He felt her approaching release in the tightening of her wet flesh around him and gave himself into the act completely, his hot girth jackhammering into her full speed, hard, fast thrusts that made her whole body jerk in his arms.  
He could feel how huge he was inside her, how deep he reached into her clenching sheath, filling her completely, stretching her walls as far as they could go.  
Mine, his fevered mind screamed, and he impossibly picked up speed, fucking her with ramming strokes until he felt her come undone with a vengeance.   
He followed her into oblivion without a chance of resisting, they were screaming into each other’s mouths, his hot seed shooting into her violently contracting core.  
He kept thrusting, pounding into her in a wanton frenzy while hard jets of semen filled her up to the brim. She felt the warmth of his essence trickle over her thighs and threw her head back, coming again.  
He rode out her orgasm with her, his still-hard cock stuffing her completely, hips pumping to prolong her mind-blowing release.   
When both were spent and exhausted, Jane stopped moving, every breath searing his lungs, panting into her tear-stained face. He put his forehead against hers, his body shaking heavily in her arms, his legs almost too weak to stand upright.  
They were a mess, drenched and disheveled, their combined juices hot between them. Soaking their skin, their clothes.  
She gently showered his face with kisses, renewing his lust, his need for more sex, for her. Just for her.  
“My place.” He panted. “Immediately.”  
They straightened their clothes until they almost looked respectable and stormed out of the room, leaving the restaurant as fast as they could after Jane had thrown three more hundred-dollar-bills on the counter, racing to his car, both shuddering with lust.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dammit, she absolutely couldn’t let her hands off him. The cop inside her screamed at her, they were so close to his home, he was driving, for God’s sake, but she couldn’t stop herself.  
She opened his fly and pushed her hands inside, shivering when her fingers wrapped around his rock-hard, massive erection.  
Jane cried out and pressed his lower body into her touch, jerking and shaking all over.  
“Concentrate on the street, Jane.” She gasped, her head swimming with desire.  
“Pardon?” He shouted. “Last time I checked you were the one with her hands inside my underwear- Oh GOD, Teresa it feels so good, please don’t stop.”  
His hands were trembling heavily on the steering-wheel and she whimpered when she forced herself to pull her hand away only to move closer again seconds later, breathlessly kissing the side of his neck. Damn, he tasted absolutely addictive, she wanted to climb into his lap and… dammit, agent Lisbon, you are inside a driving car, what is the matter with you?  
As soon as he pulled up in front of the warehouse both of them jumped out, running to the front gate at full speed.  
They lost most of their clothes inside the lift, greedy hands ripping through cloth and fabric while their mouths devoured each other with a passion both had never felt before.  
Jane opened his door with shaking hands and pulled Lisbon inside, shedding the rest of his clothing on the way to his bed. He threw her already naked body on the mattress and watched her spread her legs for him, sobbing with need. He felt a mad shudder running all over his skin and wasted no time climbing on the bed, shoving his full length into her in one hard lunge.  
Both of them cried out and Jane started moving immediately, his cock thrusting against frayed nerves until Lisbon’s body succumbed in what seemed like a single, endless orgasm.  
Jane picked up speed, spurred on by the breath-taking look on her face when she came beneath him, again and again, his skin tingled and burned, his thrusts so hard now that her small frame bounced under the impact every time he hit her utmost depths.  
Again she whispered his name between restless kisses, their tongues dueling wetly inside their mouths while Jane continued to hammer into her, prolonging her release and aftershocks and more vigorous climaxing until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.  
He was so huge inside her but damn, the slight soreness felt wonderful, and she clutched him tight to keep him within her, show him that she would never let go in this lifetime.  
He screamed and came, pumping a new gush of wet heat into her, more and more, until he collapsed, exhausted for the moment. It took him only minutes to get hard again, and he simply turned her onto her stomach and pushed into her from behind, an insane surge of lust demanding another bout of hard, fast sex.  
Jane came so much he felt drained in the early morning hours, but her relentless kisses kept renewing his vigor as soon as he’d finished climaxing, so he took her again, and again, his mind dissolving into a torrent of lust and love and jerking, needy bodies, all coherent thoughts gone, his whole being breathing and feeding just through hers. He couldn’t tolerate the slightest distance between them, but touching her led to needing her closer, and he pushed into her again, taking her like a wild beast until he spilled even more seed inside her, adding to the mess they were creating with their insatiable bodies.  
He panted when he looked into her beautiful face, wet with tears, and all of a sudden his kisses were warm and sweet and soft and almost apologetic , because he had no idea if he could ever, ever stop.  
With a desperate sob he shoved his cock into her again, and she gently rubbed his back while she spread her legs for him as wide as they could go, for she could already feel him getting even larger inside her.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane woke up in a tangle of sheets, feeling almost hung over. His head throbbed, his muscles were sore from the night’s constant exertions, but a wild happiness spread inside his chest even while his cock grew hard again, getting ready to play with his beautiful princess a little more.   
He glowed with joy. She was his. The night had been hot and scary and wonderful beyond words. And he definitely needed more. He reached over, groping for her body, and almost jumped out of his skin with shock as his eyes snapped open in disbelief.  
She was gone.  
No. NO!  
Anger and panic and bitter disappointment soared like a flame, he could almost feel his heart shatter.  
NO. He wouldn’t let her get away, couldn’t give her up. There was no way he could live without her.  
He jumped up and raced into the bathroom, taking a shower in record time. He donned nothing more than a shirt and pants, no underwear, not even socks, he slipped into his shoes without them, his wet hair curling into his face.  
He was crying copiously, silently scolding himself. All the tears weren’t necessary, she wasn’t dumping him- he simply wouldn’t let her.  
He raced to his car, jumping in and firing the ignition in almost a single move.  
He drove like a maniac all the way to Sacramento.  
He would never, never let her go, he would fight for her until the last drop of his blood was spilled.  
He didn’t greet Jim, didn’t acknowledge anyone when he stormed into CBI headquarters, seething with anger and frustration and pain, and he was hard again, dammit, longing for her so much he would have to go to the hospital if he couldn’t change her mind.  
NO! Failing was not an option. She was his, forever. FOREVER, dammit!  
He stormed into her office, slamming the door shut behind him.  
Seeing her felt like a stroke.  
She was calm and composed, her face soft and gentle like the surface of a quiet, shimmering lake. Beautiful like a picture, her silky dark hair curling around her shoulders. Pale skin, pure like cream, covered by a thin sheen of freckles. He had kissed every single one of them last night, he thought, pain lashing through him like a fiery arrow. Her huge, deep green eyes seemed to look straight into his soul, and her lips… moist and undoubtedly hot, alluring, tempting beyond words.  
He wanted to sink down on his knees and beg for her kiss, cry and wail until she would take him into her arms and grant him the comfort only she could give.  
He swallowed drily instead and forced himself to get almost eerily calm. He nodded slowly, as if he acknowledged their status quo. It was like opening a court hearing, and he desperately needed to win this case.  
“Listen, Lisbon.” He said calmly. “I know I hurt you. I threw you out, acted mean and selfish. I didn’t know what I truly wanted at that time. But I definitely know it now. You might not want to head into a relationship with me. You might think it’s a seriously bad idea. You might even be right. But I love you, Teresa Lisbon. I LOVE YOU. Not like a freaking brother or good friend. No- like a hot-blooded lover who wants to hold you in his arms until we’re both old and grey. Don’t you think for a second that you can ignore me or run away. That you dump me now and we’ll be bantering in the bullpen tomorrow. No, Lisbon. I swear to you: I will pursue you endlessly, no matter what it takes. I will seduce and charm and sweet-talk you, I will be mean and unfair and use outrageous ways to make you yield. I will stalk you, besiege you, spill my heart’s content every single day until you sink into my arms and proclaim to the world that I’m the only one you want. Listen closely, Lisbon: YOU’RE MINE. Forever.”  
Damn, she was as cool as ice. She got up slowly and came closer, tilting her head slightly, her gaze reaching far away as if she was trying to choose the right words.  
He was scared shitless, shaking under his calm exterior, so, so scared to hear her openly reject him while his body was still raging for her, to hear her speak rational words, find good reasons for them not to be together, force him to get through this day without her touch.  
She stood directly in front of him, her eyes soulful, gentle, full of warmth and compassion.  
No, he thought. Please, no.  
“I know.” She said and ripped his shirt open, buttons flying all over the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content is still explicit!

He was different today, and she didn’t like it.  
Loralei Martin narrowed her eyes at Patrick Jane, trying to find out what had changed. She’d almost had him at their last interview, had felt how her words had turned the wheels in his head. She had almost cracked him.  
But the insecurity was gone now, replaced by a contented glow she didn’t like at all. This man wasn’t without home and purpose, wasn’t eaten up by his thirst for vengeance any longer. His silly happiness made him far more dangerous, less perceptive to her campaign.  
Dammit. She had a strong hunch about who was responsible for this.   
She sighed and tried to get back into her game. Made her voice soft and sweet, her eyes warm and compassionate. Stroke his ego, she thought, it’s what you do best.  
“Where have you been, lover? I missed you so much. Has Lisbon kept you away from me with tedious police work? I can’t imagine how you stand it all the time. The mediocrity, the loneliness. You are so much better than all of them, Patrick. The woman who calls herself your superior is nothing but a joke.”  
He leaned back in his chair, and something inside her growled slowly and dangerously. It was frustrating. She couldn’t get through to him.  
“Meh,” he drawled, the mask of calm arrogance without flaw, “not really, she’s pretty no-nonsense most of the time. Her talents lie elsewhere, and I can assure you, they’re legion.”  
He grinned at her, and she didn’t like what the gesture implied.   
Fuck. She had no idea what she was up against when it came to Teresa Lisbon. Too bad she didn’t have Red John’s abilities. But, dammit- men had always sank down at her feet without her even trying, always. She’d never failed. She wouldn’t start now.  
She leaned over and looked him deep in the eyes.  
“There are millions of fascinating people in the world, lover. Brilliant minds, true challenges for a master like you. He knows them all, and they adore him. And… you would have me, after all.”  
Her smile felt alien on her face, she hoped it looked convincing. He leaned forward in his chair, their faces very close to each other.   
“Why should I want you, Loralei?” He asked, his voice soft like velvet. Unperturbed. Damn.  
“I’m your salvation, Patrick. The sun that will brighten your existence. I can take you to places you’ve never seen, enhance your skills until you’re godlike in your powers. Teresa Lisbon is just a mindless slave, working for a system made by small-minded fools. She’s a worm.”  
He reclined again, moving away from her, slumping in his seat as if all of this wasn’t especially interesting. He pretended to contemplate her argument, but when he replied, there was nothing but a shrug in his words.  
“I don’t know, Loralei. She’s pretty sweet, I think.”  
His smile became soft and wistful, as if he remembered something unique and precious. His face transformed with the tenderness he was obviously feeling, and blinding anger shot up in Loralei’s chest.  
No! She couldn’t let him fall in love with someone else. She was the siren, the seductress. It was her major talent, the reason why she had chosen her alias. Men fell for her all the time, unable to resist her charms. She always knew which buttons to push, saw through men like glass. Patrick Jane was no different. He would fall for her, not some prude spinster who couldn’t see sexy when it hit her in the face.  
She forced her voice to become soft and hypnotic, but it was hard. For about the first time in her life, she almost couldn’t control the burning anger inside her.  
“You don’t want her, you want me. The same as I want you, lover. I knew you would be my fate the first time I saw you, Patrick. I felt that you are meant to be my soul mate. Your body screamed for me to hold you, keep you safe. I found myself in the icy blue lakes of your eyes…”  
“Green.”  
She was momentarily confused.  
“What?”  
Jane was absolutely cool.  
“Green, Loralei. My eyes are green.”  
He leaned over and stared at her, showing her his eyes’ color.   
He was right. They were green, a relatively pale shade, but green nonetheless. Damn, stupid mistake, unforgivable when she dealt with someone like Patrick Jane… she felt lost for a moment, couldn’t remember what she had been wanting to say.  
Jane played with the bottle of water he had brought with him into the interrogation room, his constant fidgeting making her terribly nervous. But telling him to stop would show her momentary weakness, so she stayed silent.  
What had she been saying? Oh yes…  
“I bet Lisbon knows my eye color.” He said suddenly, his voice almost bored. “I have to ask her some time. Does Red John know yours?”  
Pride made her answer.  
“Of course he does! When he came to Atlanta to get me he bought me a necklace made of…”  
Oh my God. Shock made her whole body feel numb. Had he tricked her into revealing something about Red John?  
His smug smile told her he had.  
She resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands.  
Vanity was her fatal flaw, Red John had always told her that. He had warned her not to reveal the smallest detail to Patrick Jane- nobody knew what his brilliant mind could do even with tiny scraps of information. She had to take care that it never happened again.  
Her flirty façade was lost, it was futile to retrieve it. She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. She would stay silent for today, try again next time.  
“Oh,” Jane mocked, “The silent treatment now, my sweet? You were the one who confused my eye color! I’m hurt! Maybe you are a little nicer next time we meet. For now…” He paused for emphasis, “…I’m going to mull about what you told me.”  
An icy fist clenched around her heart, forcing her to close her eyes for a moment.   
When she opened them again, Patrick Jane was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxx

“Can’t you hypnotize her into telling you everything she knows?” Susan Darcy stirred her tea without really feeling in the moment.   
Jane looked at her as if he’d just now realized that she was in the room.  
“Huh? Oh, no, I can’t. Red John has installed some kind of barrier in her mind, much like he did with Kristina Frye. Drugs, I guess. They might wear off eventually, but we can’t be sure. Kristina’s mind is practically destroyed. I could hypnotize Loralei, but every time she would want to tell me something about Red John, her mind will block the information. So I have to do this the classical way. Talk the truth out of her in small portions. At least her mind is still intact.”  
Susan leaned back and nodded slowly.  
“Is it certain that Red John didn’t hypnotize her?”  
“Yes.” He was so firm that she didn’t inquire any further for now.  
“What about the Atlanta- clue?”  
Jane shrugged. “It’s a start. The first time I could manipulate her into revealing a shred of information.”  
He got up to pour himself some more tea.  
“To use that information,“ he said, “we’ll have to find out more about Loralei’s past. When has she been in Atlanta, who were her friends? Has anybody noticed someone special in her life who might have been Red John? When did she leave, under what circumstances? She said her heart was just like mine once- has she lost someone, suffered through some kind of trauma? As I said, it’s a start.”  
Susan nodded again, deep in thought. It was tedious and slow, but he was right. It was a start, and there was no other way. No one else could make Loralei talk, they had tried every interrogation specialist the FBI could provide. She had talked to no one. Only Patrick Jane.  
She watched him, his movements flowing and graceful. No tremor in his hands. He was back, there was an aura of calm and confidence around him, like a piece of armor that protected him from the real world. His smile was easy and light again, making his face eerily beautiful. Fascinating.  
He was a seducer just as Loralei was. No surprise he had crawled under her skin when no one else could.  
“It will take time.” She sighed. “Loralei Martin sure as hell isn’t her real name.”  
He chuckled.  
“You bet. Most parents aren’t sadists. Loralei. Phhhht.”  
He took a sip from his cup when she saw his eyes going narrow and thoughtful. Something he just realized. She waited patiently, watching him closely.  
“Susan,” he said eventually, showing not the slightest enthusiasm. ” I might need a certain favor. Are you willing to help me without asking questions?”  
She groaned and suddenly knew how Teresa Lisbon might have been feeling all those years. It was hard to trust him, and still he had ways with him that made it hard to resist. She was always glad to see the back of him.  
“Okay, “she said after a long while of silence, “just don’t get someone killed, please!”  
His smug smile wasn’t reassuring at all.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The sweat started to cool on his body, which wasn’t a bad feeling at all after hours of red heat.  
The warm silk of her hair was flowing over his naked chest, making him want to drown in the dark flood, vanish inside her to never come out again.  
He got hard once more, the prickling sensation forcing a tiny groan from his throat.  
Teresa was sleeping soundly, he felt the quiet, slow rhythm of her breath against his skin. He slid his fingers over her back, up and down, and thought about Loralei and his plan to make her talk.  
Loralei. The magic being luring men to their deaths with her beauty and siren-like voice. That was how she saw herself, the key he’d been looking for. Because ultimately, another woman had seduced him, had captured his heart and made him immune against Loralei’s influence.  
That couldn’t sit well with a woman who had founded her house of cards on her ability to make men fall for her. All men.  
But Loralei might know that the sorceress whose name she had chosen had eventually committed suicide because she had been betrayed by a lover. Was there trauma in Loralei’s past? He smiled a cold smile in the darkness. So many ways to get to her. And he’d been blind enough not to see what had been so close all the time.  
He pressed a sweet kiss on top of Teresa’s head, her mouth-watering scent invading his senses like a drug. He’d always thought his feelings would prevent him from catching his nemesis. Now she proved to be the key to his success. He would crack Loralei. Bit for bit.  
He just needed to put her through the emotional wringer, rip her wide open so she would reveal something without really thinking. He allowed his plan to form in the night, his body throbbing with need for the woman on top of him, every tiny movement of her small body sending flashes of lust through his system.  
When he finally had decided how he would proceed he was shaking with ecstasy. She moved her hand, sliding it over his nipple, her fingernails catching on the highly sensitive spot. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, but there was no way he could stay quiet when she moved her leg against his groin, rubbing his fevered skin until he released a gasping breath.  
He pushed her down onto her back, already pressing his hips between her spread legs.  
She woke up, looking sleepily at him for a moment, but her hands drove into his hair immediately, pulling him closer to claim his lips in a brutal, passionate kiss. Her tongue was hot and sweet, her taste made him wanton and loud, his heavy groans shattering the dark silence around them.  
He couldn’t stay quiet when she touched him, kissed him, he lost everything in her arms, and he almost came when she scratched his back, no doubt leaving red marks he would wear with pride.  
She gasped into his mouth when he entered her roughly, driving into her to the hilt in one hard stroke. Her body closed in on him, trapping him inside her, the one place he never wanted to leave.  
He kept still as long as he could, until the ecstasy almost stole the rest of his sanity, the itch to fuck her into oblivion so strong he simply had to move, had to thrust into her deep and fast. It felt so good he wanted to weep, wanted to hear promises and endearments from her, wanted to be sure that she would never, never leave him, would never take the only thing from him that could keep him human.   
Teresa.  
He pounded her into the mattress, taking her harder and harder, her approaching climax already a distinct taste on his tongue.  
The friction on his cock made him scream and cry and groan with pleasure, louder and louder, and he shuddered with relief when he felt her coming around him, her sharply contracting muscles milking his seed from him in an endless stream , and he roared at the top of his lungs, thrusting helplessly while he poured his essence into her.  
He seemed to lose everything, his heart, his soul, his body, until she owned every inch of him, had marked him for life, taken complete possession of everything that was him.  
He gave her slow, panting kisses, sweet and sloppy, before he rolled off her to immediately pull her into his arms.  
She fell asleep fast while he showered her with love and affection, kissing her hair, her forehead, her delectable little nose, her lips again and again. His heart felt so full he almost expected it to hurt, but it was nothing but warmth and trust and bittersweet longing.  
He felt a pang of bad conscience because he simply couldn’t tell her about his plan, because she had to contribute without knowing what she did, but he swallowed the uneasiness down for now. When he’d managed to catch Red John, his guardian angel would profit as well.  
He would reward her without end for accepting a selfish bastard like him.  
He would lay the world at her feet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains explicit content!

„Darcy.“  
„Hey, Susan, It’s Patrick- you remember the favor I was gonna ask you for? Now I need it.”  
“Shoot.”  
“I need to interview Loralei- but at CBI headquarters, in interrogation 6. Can you have her brought here today?”  
“Sure, shouldn’t be a problem.”  
“Uhm… I admit there might be a tiny catch…”  
“What is it, Jane?”  
“Lisbon absolutely can’t know about this. If she learns that Loralei is in the building, my plan is toast. So you have to bring Loralei at noon, precisely, and I have to distract Lisbon so she won’t take notice.”  
“I don’t like this at all. What would happen if Lisbon learned about your plan?”  
“Meh, have a little faith, Susan. Nothing abysmal, I assure you. It would spoil all the fun, which is always a disaster in law enforcement, but nobody would get hurt. Except maybe myself, because Lisbon might kill me… are you rolling your eyes at me, Susan?”  
“Jane, don’t make any stupid…”  
“Twelve o’clock p.m. flat, Susan, okay? I take care of Lisbon. See you then. Bye!”  
Jane folded his cellphone and smiled at himself. Step number one.  
Now about the details.  
There were two major things that could go wrong with his plan.  
First, Loralei could decide to spoil everything by making Lisbon aware of her presence. Red John might have installed some kind of blockade that made her resist telling anything about him even in hypnosis, but that wouldn’t stop a light trance, just to immobilize her arms, legs and tongue. She would be conscious, processing what she saw as she should, but without desire to react. Piece of cake.  
Second, Lisbon could simply look in the direction of the interrogation room. He wouldn’t hypnotize her without her knowing it (she would kill him on the spot if she ever found out, and, yes- it would be an unforgivable betrayal), so he had to trust his abilities to distract her. He would simply do things he knew she liked- like wearing his shirt open to the breast bone. Reclining on her couch in a certain way that emphasized his physique, showed her how lithe and nimble he was. Good that Lisbon obviously got off on gracefulness and elegance… caveman wasn’t his style, at least not until they were in bed together.  
He walked the short distance to interrogation six and took a closer look at the area around it. It was the last room in a row of similar cells, and it was by far the least used. But the opposite wall had a small niche that made it perfect for his purposes, a little cave where one (or two) could hide from anyone who entered the hallway. But if he opened the door to the interview room a little bit, the person who sat at the right side of the table would be able to see everything that happened in this niche.  
He took a deep breath.  
Having a bad conscience didn’t feel too good, and he was usually a lot more successful at stopping himself from getting one.   
He chuckled. Love.  
For a moment, he allowed himself to bathe in the sweet glow of warmth that seemed to illuminate his insides, but seemed to reach far beyond his body. He’d never felt this calm, this strong, this convinced that this shitty, wonderful life was worth it.  
Her face popped up in his mind as it always did these days, her lips pale and soft, begging for a kiss that would leave them both breathless.  
He rubbed his hand over his own leg, needing to touch something. Teresa.  
Damn, he had to concentrate. He looked at the clock over the door. 11.43. Showtime.  
He walked to Lisbon’s office, carefully watching his surroundings. Almost the whole staff would go on lunch break in twenty minutes, it was a quiet, boring day, and everybody tried to be more or less absent the whole time.  
He had seen Rigsby playing games on his cellphone in the men’s room, Grace was taking frequent naps in the visitor’s area. Cho read a book he could hardly put down.  
“Hey, Rigsby,” he called out when the tall agent came into view, “Lisbon is looking for someone who takes care of some files for her- she’ll choose one of you guys, whoever’s here at one p.m.”  
“Oh no,” Rigsby groaned, “the day has been awful so far, this would be the final straw- thanks, man, I’ll warn the team… guess we ‘ll go on a prolonged lunch break today, huh?”  
Jane smiled and nodded.  
“That’s what I thought.”  
He gave a small wave and walked on, opening as many buttons on his shirt as he could without unbuttoning his vest.  
He entered Lisbon’s office with a smile on his face, taking care that he displayed his amenities so she had to take an interest.  
He immediately saw her gaze wander to his chest. Gotcha.  
He walked up behind her, looking over her shoulder, his smile deepening when he felt her tense up. He rubbed his cheek against her hair, pressing a tiny kiss on her temple when she turned her head.  
“Jane,” she whispered, her voice already hoarse with arousal. “I can almost see your nipples, dammit…”  
“Do you want to kiss them?”  
Her eyes went wide.  
“Remember the talk, Jane? This is the office, and we don’t…”  
“Last time we had sex in here, YOU were the one responsible for it,” he pouted, “and you ruined one of my favorite shirts.”  
She sighed.  
“That was an exception, I was hyped up and horny as hell…”  
“…and you aren’t now?”  
Lisbon groaned, but he saw a soft flush crawl over her skin. Her breathing accelerated considerably.  
“I’m the team- leader, Jane,” she breathed, “so- not in the office.”  
He secretly looked at the clock on her desk. 11.57. He walked to the next window and closed the blinds, proceeding until every single one was closed.  
Then he went back to the desk and leaned over it, both hands against the tabletop, his face so close to hers their lips almost touched.  
“One kiss, Teresa,” he begged. “I’m so hot. Please.”  
It wasn’t a lie, as she could see when she looked down and detected the enormous bulge at the front of his pants.  
She gave in with a sigh and pressed her lips on his, gently deepening the kiss into something huge, intense and passionate, until their tongues were fighting without taking prisoners. Jane moaned loudly and lightly put his hands against Lisbon’s ears, effectively blocking the sounds from the hallway.   
He broke the kiss at 12.03, leaving Lisbon just as breathless as he was.  
“Have a cup of tea with me in fifteen minutes, Lisbon,” he panted, “I’ll wait for you in the breakfast area, okay?”  
“Jane, I have a lot of paperwork…”  
“Come on, Lisbon, don’t lie to me. It’s the most boring day in the history of CBI headquarters. Don’t tell me you have no time for a cup of tea with the man who spends the whole day pining for you. Just one cup, Lisbon.”  
She rubbed her temples and nodded.  
“Fifteen minutes, Jane. See you then.”  
He pressed a last kiss on her forehead and hurried down the small hallway to interrogation 6.  
Susan waited for him in front of the room, frowning when she saw his murderous erection tenting his pants.  
He grinned.  
“Well, what shall I say- you’re looking especially nice today, Susan.”  
“Okay, Jane,” she snorted, “I won’t even ask. We will wait downstairs, waiting for your call, sealing the building so nobody can escape. Martin is chained to the chair AND handcuffed, but let me warn you- I swear, if she manages to slip through our fingers, I will skin you…”  
“Don’t worry, Susan, as you might remember, I’m not an idiot…”  
“As you might remember, Erica Flynn managed to escape CBI’s custody quite easily.”  
“Ouch- touché.” He sighed. “I swear, she won’t escape me. Scout’s honor. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”  
He entered the room before Susan could answer, and heard her walk away with a grumble.  
Loralei watched him with cold, curious eyes.  
She noticed his erection immediately, of course. Men’s hard-ons were her line of business.  
“Been missing me, lover?” She smiled.  
He was dying to give her a sharp retort, something that would make her livid in an instant. But angry people were harder to hypnotize, so he swallowed the words.  
“You look especially stunning today, Loralei. I bet it took a while to brush your hair to that shiny perfection. Hundred strokes to make it glitter…….. One…….. Two……… Three……..”  
He played with a pen he had brought from Lisbon’s office, turning it in his hand in a smooth, steady movement, again, again.  
“Four……… Five……… Six………”  
Loralei’s eyes wandered to the tip of the pen, her pupils going wide.  
“The brush sliding through the dark strands, parting like an ocean, glittering in the sunlight……. Seven..…….Eight……… Nine…….. Ten.”  
He waved his hand in front of her eyes. Done. Had been surprisingly easy, but then, she was a serial killer’s minion.   
“Listen, Loralei. “He said calmly. “The moment I tap your left shoulder, you will see and hear everything that happens, but you won’t have the slightest interest in moving your tongue, your hands or your legs. They will simply lie there, dead weights. Don’t let them bother you. When I tap your right shoulder, you will remember everything you have seen and have full command of your body again.”  
He got up and tapped her left shoulder, already racing out of the room, taking care to leave the door ajar. Lisbon was waiting for him in the breakfast area, and he didn’t hesitate.  
He grabbed her and pushed her against the next wall, his tongue deep inside her throat before she could voice her protest. The kiss was heady and sweet and he almost forgot about his plan. His desire for her so strong he could have devoured her then and there.  
Sweet Teresa, messing with his mind again.  
“Please, Teresa,” he whispered urgently, not needing to pretend anything, “I need you. I’m so hard I can’t walk straight.”  
“Go to the men’s room and jack…”  
“No,” he breathed, “I need YOU, my sweet. Please give me something to get me through this day. PLEASE.”  
She groaned, and he didn’t give her time to answer, already taking her hand, pulling her into the hallway in front of the interrogation rooms.  
Okay, here came the tricky part- keeping Teresa Lisbon from looking into number six.  
He framed her face with his hands and pushed her into the little niche formed by two meeting walls, kissing her as if he were dying of thirst. He was trembling with passion now, how in hell did she do this? All composure left him where she was concerned, and even this thought fled his mind when she turned him around so his back was pressed against the wall. Her eyes watched him intently, and he saw something inside them that he should have a closer look at, but he forgot all about that when her tiny fingers opened his belt.  
“I won’t get naked with you here, Jane,” she growled, “but I’ll take care of your little problem for you. Just because I’m a really NICE girl.”  
She went down on her knees, opening his fly and pushing down his pants and underwear, and he used the last shreds of his coherent mind to look up, his eyes meeting Loralei’s for a second. He saw shock and disbelief in her gaze and smiled breathlessly before he blocked her presence from his mind completely and gave in to his addiction. Teresa Lisbon, his drug, his angel.  
He looked down at her, knowing he had to stay as alert as possible to keep her from looking at the door.  
He barely managed to keep his eyes open when she started to lick the tip of his cock with her hot little tongue, thoroughly caressing the little slit on top of his glans. Jane bit his lip, knowing he was always extremely vocal with agent Lisbon- he usually screamed at the top of his lungs in two minutes flat, but he had to restrain himself now.  
He grabbed Lisbon’s head, using his hands to hide Loralei from her view, and closed his own eyes, concentrating on the delicious sensations coursing through his body.  
Lisbon engulfed his cock with her warm, firm lips, stroking up and down, and he whispered her name in sheer reverie, again, again, cooing words of love and longing, his mind almost completely gone. His body jerked and arched, and he started to get scared, nothing should feel that good, nothing should be able to reduce him to a pile of quivering mush, but he felt nothing but her lips, her tongue, sucking him off so perfectly tears started to spill from his eyes, running over his face in fevered rivulets.  
She massaged the sensitive underside of his length with her mouth, pushing her tongue against the pulsating vein.  
“Teresa!” he cried out and came so hard his vision went momentarily black, his hand moving over her eyes to stop her from looking while he climaxed like a breeding bull, shooting strong jets of seed into her mouth.  
Lisbon swallowed without hesitation which made him come some more, he shuddered all over, almost collapsing with exhaustion and bone-deep satisfaction. She licked him clean, effortlessly bringing him to half-mast again, and he struggled to collect his mind, remember why he was here, what he was doing, dammit.  
She licked her lips and straightened his clothes, gently stroking his semi-hard cock before she put it back into his underwear. He whimpered.  
Lisbon got up slowly and smiled at him.  
“I really can’t believe I did this here of all places. You drive me crazy, Jane, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”  
She was about to turn her head, but he framed her face with his hands and hungrily covered her lips with his. He tasted his own seed in her mouth and it drove him insane, he wanted, needed more, needed to fuck her until they both couldn’t move.  
“I love you, Teresa, “He whispered, his voice honest and deep, “don’t leave me, ever. I will go mad without you. I love you so much. I’m not a good guy, I’m evil, selfish, tainted. Without you I’ll be swallowed into a black hole and never come out. Don’t leave me, please. Forgive me for not being worthy of your love. Oh god, I love you so much… ”  
“I love you, too,” she answered softly, interrupting him, “I won’t go. No matter how many crazy stunts you pull on me, you jerk.”  
He chuckled and looked down for a second, trying to get a grip on his feelings.  
“Look at you, trying to sweet-talk me. Come to my place tonight, yes? I need you, Teresa. I constantly need you.”  
She nodded and turned, walking away with her calm, measured stride.   
“I’m on lunch break now, Jane,” she called over her shoulder, “don’t do anything dangerous while I’m gone.”  
He frowned. There was still something strange in her eyes, her voice, but he couldn’t think about this now. He released a shaky breath and turned his mind back to Loralei. He had to get something out of her, right now.  
He brushed his hand through his hair and walked into the interrogation room, gently tapping Loralei’s right shoulder while he passed her by.  
He sat down opposite her and grinned.  
“What’s up, Loralei? Cat got your tongue?”  
He saw the effort it cost her to smile at him. Saw the tumble of repressed emotions in the depths of her eyes. She felt betrayed. Angry. Good.  
„What are you trying to prove, lover?“  
He was sure her voice wasn’t as calm as she wanted it to be.  
He looked at her wide-eyed, feigning innocence.  
“Nothing. Long day at the office.” He shrugged, smiling nonchalantly.  
Loralei closed her eyes briefly, the chains on her legs rattling.  
“You don’t really want her. And you know it.”  
Jane laughed heartily.  
“I don’t want her? Didn’t you watch? That’s me in the throes of true passion. Looks pretty different from what we did, huh? I can’t let my hands off her, Loralei. You know why?”  
“Absolutely no idea.”  
He leaned closer, and allowed her a short glimpse of the feelings inside him, knowing Red John had trained her well enough to see them.  
“It’s love. But I’m not really surprised that you’re unfamiliar with the concept.”  
“I love him.”  
Jane felt nausea spread through his guts and had to swallow several times before he could talk again.  
“Yes. I bet you do.”  
She beckoned the seductress inside her, leaning back to display the gracefulness of her body. Much as he had done with Lisbon. Shame soared up, but he fought the feeling down. Focus, now.  
“He doesn’t mind sharing my body, Patrick.” Loralei whispered,” We could be good together.”  
His stomach started churning again, but he forced himself to snort derisively. “I heard that before, my dear. Sorry, I’m not interested.”  
“I’m better than she is.”  
He laughed humorlessly.  
“I already had you, remember? You’re not. Touching her is like an addiction. I would never have been able to throw HER out after our first time, believe me. You were never more for me than a way to reach Red John. You’re his minion- nothing else.”   
He saw the first signs of anger on her face, like a mask crumbling, and relished the feeling- definitely making progress here. Her voice was slightly hoarser when she spoke again.  
“I seduced you.”  
He leaned closer.  
“I first saw you two weeks after I’d left CBI. You were watching me. I recognize evil when it stares me in the face, Loralei. Your interest in me smelled of hidden agenda right from the beginning. And me being a dirty, disheveled, constantly humiliated loser without any morals whatsoever? Yeah, the moment you made your move I knew I’d been right. For only Red John’s servant would be even slightly fascinated by a piece of worthless scum like me.”  
“Don’t insult yourself, Patrick. You were pretty attractive, even in disguise.”  
“Thank you. You weren’t. Outwardly, yes, but not where it truly counts. You know what I’ve been thinking about while we had sex?”  
She laughed, but the sound stayed shallow.  
“Certainly not about her. Nobody would prefer a shriveled spinster like her to a woman like me, Patrick.”  
He leaned closer.  
“All the time, Loralei. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without calling up her face in my mind. I desired her all along, missed her, longed for her. You were an obstacle I had to overcome to get back at your master, and GET BACK TO HER. Nothing more.”  
Full-fledged anger now, filling her eyes with fire. Time to move in for the kill.  
He leaned over, almost close enough to touch. His skin was crawling with disgust, his heart once again bleeding for the family he’d lost. He had to do that now. She would give him something. And he would be back to get more. More and more, until Red John lay before him in all his ugly colors. He made his voice arrogant and aloof.  
“That’s all you’ve ever been, isn’t it, Loralei? A beautiful body. Every man’s perfect wet dream. Must hurt pretty bad to be outrun by a woman so good, so honest, so warm-hearted you probably want to puke … just because she made me love her so much I would rip my heart out for her. A master seductress like you, defeated by a notorious goody-two-shoes. Pretty little Loralei has failed. What will Red John say, huh?”  
“You don’t really prefer her, Jane.” She pressed out between gritted teeth, and he noticed that she had switched to his last name. He had her.  
He leaned even closer.  
“You watched us together, Loralei. You know all about sex. Did I look like a man faking it? She is the one who has my heart, my soul, even my worthless body. Not you.”  
Not you. He saw her house of cards tremble, tumble, fall. Her face contorting into an ugly mass of rage and hurt and wounded pride and defeat.  
“You will never get him!” She shrieked. “You’re inferior dirt compared to him, we all are! You didn’t even recognize him when he lived next to you all the time, without the slightest disguise! He didn’t even change his name! You greeted him in the morning and never once…”  
She stopped, realizing in horror what she’d just done. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped, and Jane’s smile spread, slowly, cruelly. His mind was already working, searching his memory palace for clues.   
The guy next door. Now, wasn’t that a terrible cliché?  
He got up with a lazy grin on his face.  
“Well, Loralei,” he drawled, “it’s always fun talking to you- but I’m sure you understand that I have business to attend to now. We’ll meet again, I’m sure. There’s so much more you have to tell me.”  
He pressed some keys on his cell phone and walked out of the room, his smile deepening when he heard her scream behind him.  
“JANE!!! Don’t do this, dammit! You don’t really want to catch him!! There’s still time to join in on his mission- he’s an incredible mind, you two could reach everything together! What will you do without him?”  
Jane stopped and thought for a moment before he resumed walking.  
“I guess, “he whispered to himself, “I’m gonna get married again.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains explicit content!

It was dark outside, the moonlight casting shadows all over the room, and Patrick Jane felt warm and sated and almost ridiculously happy. Like a lovesick schoolboy. Hm, not too far from the truth.  
Part of him felt ready to fall asleep, but senior special agent Teresa Lisbon was playing with his nipples, which made his body react like clockwork. He felt himself harden, lengthen, the soft lust growing into mad desire again.  
“Uhm…Teresa?”  
“Yes, love?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and sexy. He moaned.  
“I’m a little tired now, you know?”  
She wrapped her hand around his cock, which instantly grew so hard it hurt. He gasped, his hips arching off the bed.  
“I don’t know, Jane- you don’t feel tired to me.”  
She moved until she straddled his hips, her wet flesh rubbing against his erection.  
He groaned.  
“Teresa, I…”  
“Shhhhhh, “she crooned, “don’t waste all the precious energy you have left on talking.”  
She pushed up on her knees and took him into her tight body with one single downward move. Jane cried out, his whole frame shaking and shivering with arousal, sleep entirely forgotten.  
“Lisbon, “he gasped, “you do realize that men my age can easily get a heart attack from sex like this, don’t you?”  
“Oh, stop whining, Jane,” she growled, “You don’t want to fuck, you can just as well choose a seventy-year-old as your lover. I have many, many years of messy, wild, dangerous sex in front of me.”  
“Well,” he whimpered, “as long as you’re going to spend them with me, I might be able to cope.”  
She kissed him passionately, her taste heady and sweet. Yes, he was addicted, had never thought he could feel like this.  
His hands wrapped around her waist, wandered higher, gently grazing her ribcage before they cupped her breasts, so small and firm, perfect beneath his touch. He stroked her nipples into awareness and swallowed her delighted moans like a starving man.  
He simply spread his arms on the mattress when she straightened and started to move, surrendering everything he had to his beautiful mistress.   
Her rhythm was slow and seductive, meant to take his sanity. The friction was mind-blowing, her tight sheath clutching his throbbing cock until he screamed with ecstasy every time she moved down.  
He looked at her body above his, so petite and slender, graceful beyond words. Her skin was smooth and creamy, glistening in the moonlight. She took him deep again, and he was close, so close, just some more strokes and he would…  
She stopped moving all of a sudden, and he almost screamed in frustration. He tried to thrust upwards, but damn, the woman had strong thighs- she managed to stay immobile, making him cry out with irritation.  
“Lisbon, “he hissed, “PLEASE…”  
She chuckled softly.  
“Just one question, Jane. If you’re a good boy and tell me what I want to know, I’ll reward you.”  
“Please, Lisbon,” he groaned, “don’t tell me you want to talk NOW of all times!”  
“One question: Who was watching us while I gave you that blowjob at the office today?”  
It took his whole concentration to show her his poker face. Dammit! The look in her eyes when she had left him in the hallway, he hadn’t bothered to inquire, clearly underestimating her, too busy with his plan to get information from Loralei… Teresa had hardly looked at him when she’d come to his place later, and he’d been too horny to notice. She had tricked him. Him, Patrick Jane! A mixture of pride and disbelief coursed through him. His little minx! They could get everywhere together.  
“No one, of course!” He said, feigning indignation, “Lisbon, I would never…”  
She tensed her internal muscles around his aching length and he screamed in agony, his hands clutching her waist to keep her from doing it again. Without success, she grew even tighter around him, earning her another hoarse scream from his suddenly dry throat. Sweat broke out all over his body.  
“That’s torture, woman,” he hissed, panting, “and you being an officer of the law…”  
“Tell me what I want to know and I don’t have to torture you, Jane. WHO-WAS-WATCHING?”  
He narrowed his eyes at her.  
“How did you know there was somebody?”  
Her eyes got warm and gentle. She was so beautiful his breath caught in his throat. She was much too good for him, his enchanting little witch. He touched her face, a compulsive gesture he couldn’t stop. Touching her was his life saver. He couldn’t exist without it. He had tried all those years working next to her to touch her as seldom as possible, knowing once he started, he would never want to stop. Now he couldn’t get enough of her skin beneath his fingers.  
“I know you.” She whispered. “ I’ve known you for eight years, at least five of them in love with you. And sometimes, just sometimes, I realize when I’m acting in one of your deluded plans. “  
“Why did you participate when you knew the truth all along?”  
“Because I’m an idiot, Jane- I trust you, at least within reasonable limits. You’re right most of the time. And you’ve been pretty lucky I realized that you were up to no good- if I had found out later that you were using me in one of your stupid schemes, I would have killed you.”  
He stared at her, a look of utter tenderness in his eyes. His naughty little princess.  
“I don’t deserve you, do you know that, Lisbon?”  
“Truer words have never been spoken, “she growled, “and I admit, when I realized that you possibly were expecting me to act in one of your crazy plans, I thought about strangling you… before I decided to trust you. Be grateful that I absolutely have the hots for you, Mr. Jane.”  
He smiled. “Yes, I always knew, my exceptional beauty would save my hide one day… wait, that was why you chose to give me a blowjob, instead of having sex with me, wasn’t it?”  
“Oh yes, my delusional friend, “she said, “I don’t bare my buttocks for anyone but you. Don’t force me to hurt you again, Jane. WHO?”  
He bit his lip, knowing he looked like a boy caught with his hands in the cookie-jar.  
“Loralei.” He said reluctantly.  
Lisbon’s eyes widened.  
“WHAT? Jane, please tell me she was handcuffed to the table and couldn’t have escaped even if…”  
“Of course,” He growled, “give me some credit, Lisbon…”  
“Erica Flynn.” She stated matter-of-factly.  
Jane rolled his eyes.  
“Why is everybody throwing that woman’s name at me? Loralei was handcuffed, her legs shackled to the chair AND the table, and to top it off, I had hypnotized her into immobility. She couldn’t have escaped in a major earthquake.”  
Lisbon frowned.  
“Wait- THIS is how you got the Vegas-information out of her, about Red John living next to you all the time? She was JEALOUS -of me?”  
“No need to be so smug, woman,” Jane snorted, wincing when she slapped his chest, “She was just doing what Red John told her to do. She might have found me somehow interesting and OF COURSE insanely attractive, but she certainly wasn’t in love with me. But yes- she couldn’t tolerate that you had managed to seduce me, not her. Her anger made her snap. It’s one of her fatal flaws by the way- that, and her vanity. She always saw herself as the world’s greatest seductress. But she didn’t conquer MY heart. You did.”  
“Yes, “Lisbon groaned, ”I did. And right now, I’m wondering if I might regret it.”  
He chuckled, pulling her down for a gentle kiss.  
“You won’t- not really. I won’t let you. And now, ride me, sweet temptress. Make me come so hard I’ll be blind for days.”  
She put her hand against his throat, not really putting pressure on his windpipe, but clearly conveying her message.  
“Use me like that again, Jane, and I’ll make you very, very sorry. If you truly love me, you have to trust me, too. Is that clear?”  
“Like glass.” He said softly, “I’m sorry, Teresa. I felt bad about this all the time, but I couldn’t think of another way to shock Loralei into talking. My passion for you is pretty… awe-inspiring, you know?”  
“You’re an idiot, Jane, I can’t say that often enough.”  
He sighed.  
“I know.”  
He gently kissed her lips, brushing her hair behind her ear. Damn, he hurt. But he couldn’t believe that she forgave him- she’d truly seen the worst of him and still loved him. He’d won her, although he was bad to the core.  
Her eyes were deep and green, and he knew there was much lurking in their fascinating depths. She had fought for him and protected him since forever, but she was no harmless little innocent. Which was a good thing- his princess-knight couldn’t afford to be naïve.  
He smiled gently, putting his love for her into his gaze. She needed to know it. More than anything else, she always needed to know.   
Lisbon straightened and started to move again, the sensations so strong his back arched, his whole body tensing.  
He moaned her name again and again while she moved up and down on him, her tight walls massaging his cock until it was nothing but a throbbing, dripping, aching mass. Jane started to scream when she climaxed all of a sudden, her muscles contracting around him, the friction so earth-shattering he ripped the sheets apart in his hands. He lost all sense of time and space when his seed shot into her in sharp, large spurts, filling her up until it overflowed, running over her thighs, wetting his quivering stomach.  
She collapsed on his chest, rubbing her flat hand over the sparse amount of hair covering his pecs. And then she resumed playing with his nipples, causing his cock to twitch inside her.  
He sighed. He should absolutely try to get some sleep before his masculine attributes decided to join in on the fun once again.  
They were silent for some moments, and Jane allowed the satisfied contentment to engulf him completely…before he thought of something, his eyes snapping open.  
“Lisbon?”   
“Hmmm?”  
“Do you know the color of my eyes?”  
Hers stayed close.  
“Sure,” she murmured, “green. Like pure jade in artificial light. Like those small glass marbles when you’re outdoors in the sun. Why?”  
He couldn’t talk for a moment. Love clenched around his heart like a warm, tender fist, and suddenly there were a million things he wanted to tell her, a million promises which needed to be made. Not tonight, he decided.  
“Nothing, beloved,” he whispered, “Sleep now, my sweet Teresa. I’ll protect you.”  
She snorted.  
“YOU’ll protect ME?” she mumbled sleepily, “Gosh, that makes me feel safe- I DID put my Glock on the nightstand, didn’t I?”  
“Don’t mock me, woman,” he said, trying to stop the laughter that boiled up in his chest, “I’m in a very romantic mood right now.”  
“Oh yes? Wake me when you’re ready for round…uhm…six or so, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Comfortable silence settled around them. He felt a slow pang of disbelief- he was here, with her, still alive, home. He would get Red John. He remembered a lot about the guy who had lived next to him in Las Vegas, the room was already put upside down by the FBI, there were a hundred clues to follow, and he could always get Loralei to reveal more, he was sure of it.  
He held his salvation in his arms, and he would keep her close. Love pulsated inside him like a living entity.  
He touched his wedding band in a moment of bittersweet memory, his eyes glistening with tears.  
Angela had saved him from himself when he was young. Teresa Lisbon had saved him now. They were at the center of his soul, forever.  
He would never forget his family, would love them, cherish his memories of them. He guessed it would never really stop to hurt. But for the first time since their death, he could think about them without despair. Could remember the wonderful times they’d had together. It was Teresa’s sweetest gift to him: peace.   
Soon, he would exchange this wedding band for hers. Teresa’s. If she would have him, he would be hers forever.  
How he loved her. So much the feeling gave him an entirely new color, brighter, warmer, alive.  
Her body felt so wonderful beneath his hands, he hummed with pleasure. Warm, soft skin, still slightly damp from their vigorous lovemaking. Her hair smelled delicious, like an ocean of flowers, dipped with the faint cinnamon-scent he loved so much. He buried his face in the dark flood, his hands gently stroking her firm, perfectly rounded buttocks.  
“Lisbon?” He said softly. “Wake up.”


End file.
